


Caught In The Currents

by cleardays



Category: Bastille (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Prison, Arguing, Blackouts, Concerts, Drama, Drug Use, Guards, Guilt, I'm Bad At Tagging, Implied/Referenced Underage Sex, Nature, Other, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Panic, Panic Attacks, Past Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Past Character Death, Past Drug Use, Past Lives, Police, Recreational Drug Use, Regret, Routine, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-06
Updated: 2017-12-17
Packaged: 2018-12-24 16:52:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 21
Words: 64,226
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12016989
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cleardays/pseuds/cleardays
Summary: Separating a city from unsuspecting outsiders is a rapid-flowing river, surrounded by an infinite concrete jungle, filled with once overjoyed people. These streets, which once had many a poet walking on them, were now tuning out, fading into the shadow of what had once been.Now home to a population of just under nine hundred and most of them only ever looking back, anyone was close to driving themselves insane.





	1. 1. Letting The Bad Blood Dry

**Author's Note:**

> This is one of my very first novels, let alone fanfic, written in 3rd person  
> Please give advice (politely) and point out any spelling mistakes etc  
> I hope you guys like it  
> I update regularly (most of the time biweekly)  
> Tags will be added throughout/ and it's a bit dark

 

In the west of the city, a man just over six foot with almost jet-black hair and bright blue eyes lived in a dreary, grey flat which he reluctantly called home, and had been for the last three years. He could never put his finger on it, why he had never left the city, even as he sat at his table in his favourite wooden chair in his kitchen, tapping his foot lightly against his wooden floor. Why hadn't he packed his bags and left as soon as possible in his car? In some strange way, he had always felt as if the river had compelled him. The way he stood by the bank with his scruffy pair of Converse, staring into the river as it stared back, showing him is reflection which he always criticised. He felt like the river had been presenting him the future, a future he only hoped he could do something about. After all, who wanted to be the _same person_ they were in many years to come?

He hoped that future would change. He hoped fate would change its course. He hoped it would alter.

He hoped for the _best_.

On that Monday, this man stood by the river bank. It was one of the few times he had taken advantage of being surrounded by nature and admired the violent flowing river situated outside of his house. Once again, the river effortlessly worked its charms and drew him in, taking control of every nerve in his body.

By coincidence, a man with dark coloured hair and a stiff posture was leaning against the wall of his local convenience store not too far from the river when he noticed the river that trapped every miserable soul in the city caught his eye. Using his right hand, he gently twisted the hair that was forming his beard. He'd always admired it, and it had, in a way, always been a part of him - even if it was in his past, too. As he stood against that store and watched the world, his city, go on while he took a moment to stop and think, he closed his eyes and as clear as day, he could picture that past. The past with the illuminating lights, friends and family surrounding him, music at every opportunity in his ear and from what he could remember, his fingers were always trying to grasp anything new that he could try that was within his reach. In those days, nothing had ever been a problem for him. Now, it was as if the whole _city_ was posing a problem for him, and it had been for the past three years.

After all, the river could only wash so much bad blood away.

Skilfully, the bearded man pulled a cigarette out of his right pocket. It wasn't something he had always done, and in fact, it had always been something he swore to his parents he would _never_ do. Though, he was an adult in his mid-twenties, and his parents and family weren't there to watch him. Unlike him, they had gained sense three years ago, before the whole city went to shit. They said goodbye to him, and they left. Sometimes, if he was lucky, they would write heartfelt letters to him full of love, emotion and genuine care for him. However, it wasn't that his family members were ignorant, he was. The city had made him like this. When he saw people hurting, he turned into a sociopath almost; he disconnected from the world, from other human beings and shrugged his shoulders. When he saw all the despair and hurt in the world, he stood there with his arms folded, as if there was nothing he could do about it, nothing he could do to change things for the better. Over time, he had convinced himself that he was only one man, and one man could only do so little.

He'd never thought that way before.

As the man smoking looked out into the distance, he realised it would be best if he cut his cigarette break short and started to make his way home to avoid some of his demons that still hung around in the city. Just as he forcefully put out his cigarette against the cold, brick wall, his eyes widened as he caught glimpse of one of the demons that still haunted him. That demon was a slightly shorter man with saggy brown hair. He didn't look at him as he passed him, but as his cigarette fell to the ground it was as if time stopped. After all those years, he still looked the same, even in his over-exaggerated winter gear as he plodded down the street, not making eye contact with anyone and keeping his head down. It was a thing that everyone did, as if it was armour. An armour that was _well_ needed in that city, the city by the river.

Then, he was gone.

Before we ran into any more people he used to know, he took one last look at his defeated cigarette by his feet and took to his heels. He lived very far away from the man he had just saw, and all the rest. It was a small city, and he had tried his best to avoid things that may trigger certain emotions. Over the years, he had become very skilled at tracking his demons, and he watched them carefully. He had very little reason why he did so.

Four minutes had passed, and the man with the shaggy hair was hesitant to open his front door. Of course, he had lived alone for quite some time and there was nobody there waiting for him. He threw out the chance of finding someone special many, many years ago when a storm brewed over the city. Nothing was the same as it was anymore. He had once been a part, a jigsaw piece of a group of people who shared common ground, and they brought light and reasoning into what society was. His thinking was often scattered all over the place, but that was one thing he would never forget, as it kept him awake until his dying day.

He wanted those good memories back in their full glory, like the days they had been made and carried out, those moments he had shared with others. Now, he lived in his pitiful one bedroom flat, dossed out by the council. The walls were a dark, chocolate brown and there was one, small bed which the mattress was almost unusable. Money had been hard to come by since all the changes to the city, so he had always had to make do. Very little light came into the house overall, and over the years, the man had begun to question whether that was affecting his mood negatively.

Since it was a part of his usual routine, he slumped himself down onto his battered, brown sofa, feeling the life drain out of him. With a lot of effort, he managed to sit up and stare at his four walls. They were surrounding him _always_ , closing in on him, grabbing him by his hair, his skin, his _health_. They contained him by keeping him from the sun.

Not fifteen minutes from his house was another isolated man with lighter brown hair and a beard. The last three years had been the same for him, and he had taken an interest in staying inside as much as possible. He feared interactions with other people, and he found that since things had changed dramatically in the city he lived in, it brought him anxiety. An anxiety like no other – that he would have to, one, day realise how he was living, and that it was far from healthy in any way, shape, or form.

Unlike other adults, he didn’t have any friends or close relatives. They had left him, deserted him, abandoned him, when he had needed them the most. Sometimes, it hurt him, because he broke down too. He too, had bad days, just like any other human being. He too, had days where he preferred to use most of the strength that he had left (for it was very little) closing his blinds and living in the dark.

After all, that was how he had been living for three years.

Plus, staying inside did have its advantages. He never tanned, had to have awkward conversations with others, particularly the ones in his past. People could knock on his door as much as they wanted to, but he took pleasure in knowing that he left them hanging and would never answer.

When he was inside, it was like he had control. A control, a power, a force he had never obtained before – and now that he had it, he was sure as hell that he was going to take full advantage of it and use it to his will. Unlike before everything changed, he wasn’t powerless, and he could see _everything_ coming.

Everything.

Except one thing that challenged that. It was a storm brewing somewhere beyond the charcoal colour clouds in the night sky. It had just turned half seven that night, and the man with the brightest blue eyes in all the city was still stood by the riverbank. Everyone in the city was unware of the storm, as, in a flash, the man heard thunder and his eyes widened. In the blink of an eye, the sky was dropping all its rain on him, and it was starting to soak through his clothes. He thought the downpour would help him think, to cleanse his mind.

A couple of metres away was the tall, bearded man who had also decided to go out again that evening. He had been in the middle of one of his very frequent cigarette breaks when he spotted the blue-eyed man once again, and he had to wonder, after many years, if they were still as blue as he and everyone else remembered.

While his cigarette fizzled out in the wet and windy storm, he found himself watching the man more closely. He had tried to avoid doing so in case they were to run into one another, though he felt comfort in knowing that he was well.

He was only human, after all. He had to go with his gut.

As the seconds passed, the storm started to get heavier. He was going to go back inside and have another cigarette, but out of the corner of his eye, he caught the man by the riverbank turning around. Making sure that he wasn’t heading in his direction, he eyed him closely. His facial expression dropped completely when he saw the man’s heel dig too deeply into the wet earth that made up the bank, his mouth opening and his arms flailing as he fell straight into the river.

“Help! Someone help me!” the desperate man called out, surprised at what had happened to him.

The bearded man watched as the blue-eyed man struggled with the panic of the cold-water shock. He was at a loss at what to do in that situation, because a long time ago, all the hate and anger he stored for the loss of his past life would have fuelled him to let that man drown.

But one of them had to let the bad blood dry.

In time, his feet forced him to race over to the river to witness a man struggling to come to the surface. Of course, his mind was telling him, demanding him to jump in and save the man’s life, but his body was stopping him. All the _lies_ that were told, all the _hurt_ and the _hatred_.

Then, the desperate, drowning man made eye contact with me man at the river bank. He thought he recognised him – but it couldn’t be. He wouldn’t be there, not in his final hour.

“Kyle! Kyle!” the bright, blue-eyed man screamed at the top of his lungs, already hurting his throat almost full of water.

The stare from the man was enough for the bearded man to not take a minute further to think about saving his life. As he jumped in, a man on the other side of the river with shaggy hair watched the event take place, his heartstrings breaking one by one. Since he wasn’t needed, he would watch until they both came to surface, just in case.

From the distance, the other man with the beard was watching too. He was the oldest of the four, with a hazy look in his eyes as the first time he had emerged from his house in months resulted in him _feeling_ again.

With most of his strength, Kyle managed to pull the man out of the river. He was horrified to witness him, laying on the wet earth of the destroyed and battered riverbank looking as pale as a ghost with his eyes closed, and his once-styled hair plastered to his forehead. Kyle didn’t know what to do, so he started shaking him and looking down on his ex-friend, almost willing him to wake up.

“P-Please God. P-P-Please. Please,” Kyle begged, pleaded for his eyes to open once again, there for him to see, to witness.

It was if God himself had answered his prayers, and with a start, the man’s eyes forced themselves wide open, and he began to cough uncontrollably. Realising that he needed urgent medical attention, he hoisted the man’s arm to rest around him as he dragged him onto the streets, spotting a building where people were beginning to gather around.

For the people in the city, it seemed to be a safe house, and all four men flocked toward it. Of course, the other man with the beard was there the quickest, followed by the man with shaggy hair and the other two dripping in river water.

As soon as they entered, the man who had almost drowned was wrapped in a thick, wool blanket and Kyle held his hot drink as a doctor examined him closely. It took the doctor a while to do so, as the man wrapped up like a chipolata was shivering violently. Whilst Kyle watched the man trying to regain his strength back, a cool-looking man appeared, sporting a beard and black clothing with his hands deep in his pockets. He’d been ushered into the safe house from the storm by locals, as they gave him grief about going home in a violent storm.

For a moment, Kyle made unfortunate eye contact with the man, and they acknowledged each other sensibly for a few seconds – just like how they once had before, and that was extraordinary. The man bent down and put a kind hand on Kyle’s shoulder, and it warmed him to his core. Not too long after that, the man with shaggy hair wandered into the safe house and was surprised to find those three men with completely different vibes in one proximity with each other.

It wasn’t certain whether any conversation had passed between the men in the safe house they were being kept in, but something awoke Kyle as soon as the clock struck midnight. In fact, his waking had woken the other men up, too. Kyle groaned at his alertness and tried to make himself as comfortable as possible to fall back asleep, but how could he with all those men staring at him?

As the seconds passed, he could make out the other bearded man’s frame, and felt something burning in his chest.

“Will, if you have something that you would _like_ to say…” Kyle’s voice trailed off, feeling very annoyed at the man’s intense stare.

The anger building up inside of him tripled when Will did that thing that always irritated him. He shrugged his shoulders and rolled his eyes, all cool-looking, as if he didn’t have a single care in the whole damn city.

“Say? What is there left to say?” Will questioned the man, sensing the stupidity falling out of Kyle’s mouth, clearly challenging him to an agreement that he didn’t want to have in that time and setting and situation.

To the left of Will was a man who was getting really annoyed at the tone of conversation between the two, so he propped himself up and looked directly at them. They felt his stare, but regardless, decided to carry on.

“Rumour has it you tried to leave the city, so what stopped you?” Will asked Kyle, and there was clear spite to his words.

As a result, Kyle seemed quite hurt and he anxiously chewed on his bottom lip as that familiar, horrible feeling in his chest started to build and build.

“You’re quiet, Woody,” Kyle pointed out, looking at the shaggy haired man who was staring them down in hope that he could get some sleep, or at least some peace if they stopped talking immediately.

To reply, he rolled his eyes. There was no way he was going to get roped into what would become a three-way argument. Those were never good. It had been so long since he had heard his nickname, or even any part to his name.

“Quiet with _good_ reason,” Woody argued, folding his arms in anger and tapping his feet against the horrible, wet wooden floor they were all sleeping on beside each other, if that wasn’t enough.

The three men were on track to sit in silence and ignore each other, but now Woody had spoken he had noticed something earlier which he thought would be best to bring up, and sooner rather than later.

“I saw you, by the river. Never seen someone so quick to let someone else drown,” Woody commented, and that gave Will, who hadn’t really been watching the event in the fullest, an excuse to give Kyle the side eye.

That didn’t seem to shock the man lying to the right of Kyle, who sat up and groaned at where the conversation was going.

“Dan,” Woody promoted the man at the end to say something, anything to support his point so that he could come out on top.

“I wouldn’t blame you if you did,” was all Dan said to mainly Kyle, but everyone else in the room, running a hand through his dark hair and looking back at Kyle sadly, before staring at the dark ahead of him.

It would take some time, but for now, they had let the bad blood dry.


	2. 2. Feeling The Silence

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is my first story in 3rd person so i apologise if its rubbish guys again  
> about a new series of lost in a world world - I'm thinking about it, still unsure  
> for now enjoy this :)

The four men, after having their argument last night, fell asleep shortly after Dan had intervened. The scenery outside the safe house was grim, with trees blocking the entrance completely and random debris scattered across the streets. In fact, the couple that had stopped Will on his way home yesterday had been very right in doing so, because his next-door neighbour’s body was currently under the rubble of an old church that had collapsed, and there was no saving her.

The council, who had organised the safe house very quickly, as soon as the storm had come down on the city, were pacing around the room and trying to work out how they would get ambulances to the people that needed them. From what they had logged in their records, nobody had died, and it would look _very bad_ if someone had. There were too many witnesses for a cover-up, so they had to think of an alternative. Though they were in a tough position, there were ways – they could force everyone out of the city. It wasn’t home to thousands, so it wouldn’t cost the council too much. That way, every person would be accounted for, right?

That same, dreary morning, Will lay slumped up against a wall ridden with damp (despite it being the best wall in the safe house) and heard the worried members of the council argue with one another, and he began to wonder if it had been so bad for him to have walked home last night.

Just like before, that distant look appeared in his eyes. He wished he would have listened to himself last night and not gone out. He would have done anything to get away from the three men who reminded him of his glory days.

Since he wasn’t allowed to go out of the safe house, he got up and scanned the full room he was in. It was just a homeless shelter, really. There were four main big rooms, and he was in Room B. It wasn’t spacious, warm, or comforting. It was a dump.

As Will got up, he was discomforted to feel a spot of water land on his forehead. At first, he thought it was nothing. Then, he felt one more raindrop, followed by another. His blood froze as he slowly raised his head to look at the ceiling, discovering a leak. Nobody else in the room was awake, though the leak in the room was progressing. Just as he was about to report it, there was a loud, creaking sound that came from the pipes above. It had been weak for some time, though he was not knowledgeable of this and as he took a step forward, it lost its grip, swung backward and hit the man on the head. Will didn’t know what had hit him, and in pain, he fell to the floor.

In time, the room fell dormant as Will had been the only one to have awoken. Since some of the pipework had failed, there was a bigger hole in the ceiling and the leak flourished, more water flooding into the room. The council, who were in Room C, had no idea of the events that were going on in room B. The rainwater was determined to penetrate every free area of space, and the level began to rise.

By the corner of the door was a man in what seemed like an eternal slumber with a huge pipe lying beside him, and his body got more damp by the second as the water levels in the room began to rise.

Ten minutes later, Dan woke up in shock. He had the sensation that he was drowning, and his could feel the water pulling at him, threatening to take him down. Dan figured he might have been paranoid and it had all been a dream, but when he woke up, the room was flooded with what looked like rainwater. His eyes widened, and the cold water around his body shocked him, bringing him back to last night. Forcefully, he pinched himself. _He had to get a grip. There were other people in the room who were unaware of what was happening, and he needed to help them._

Immediately, through the cold and his shivering limbs, he managed to get up off his feet and stop making tired excuses. He put his hand to his mouth and coughed, his throat still feeling a bit weak from last night. Despite his fears, he forced his eyes to scan the room. Everyone was asleep, and he could hear rainwater entering the room. _There was a leak? How come nobody had reported that?_

Then, he noticed the familiar body of a man by the door to the room they were in. Not even considering waking anyone else up, he waded his way through the water to the man, where he placed his hands on his shoulders, witnessing the pipework beside him. Dan couldn’t believe what he was seeing, the blood running down from his forehead felt sticky in his own hands. There had been a time where he would have wished it upon the man, but this was the present, not the past. What he needed to do was get Will conscious as soon as possible, and get help.

Reluctantly, he left his body for a moment before trying to open the wooden door to alert the council, but it was locked. Dan sighed, wondering why, as it hadn’t been locked when he had gone to sleep last night. He tried his best to open it, but the lock wasn’t giving in. Then, he tried calling the council, but nobody answered.

Realising he had left Will alone for longer than he would have liked, he rushed back to his side, propping him against the wall. Dan thought for a moment, and Will’s damp clothes probably weren’t going to help him recover. He tried his best to shake him awake, but it was as if his body had given up on him.

“Will. Will, come on mate,” Dan croaked, his through in ribbons from his near-death experience last night in the river.

The man was still unconscious and unresponsive. He thought it was best to wake the others, as the water was now almost to his knees, and he was a tall man. Though, there were two men in the room that had already awoken.

“Dan? What? What’s going on?” Woody inquired, shocked at the water around him, and figured that must have been why he had been so uncomfortable.

When Woody cast his eyes to an unconscious Will in the corner, his body told him to move. Kyle saw too. No words were said, not after Dan had explained the situation to him, anyway.

Not that anybody had told him to do so, but since he didn’t mind and felt helpless for Will, Kyle made his way around the room, waking people up. Of course, they were shocked and alarmed and they didn’t believe the locked door business, so they tried to open it and failed. There was one man, a short one with a big mouth, who had concerns to express especially.

“It’s the council. Knowing them, they would lock us in here, and without warning. They would be _more_ than happy to let us drown here!” the short man shouted at the top of his voice, and some others nodded in agreement.

Kyle put his face in his palms, annoyed be the little revolt that was starting to form in the room. He’d always been anxious, but now being in a room of angry people he didn’t know was probably going to drive him off the edge.

“To cover their own backs!” a woman in the corner assumed, also yelling at the top of her voice, and people also agreed with her.

In a fury, one by one, the men watched as people were beginning to throw themselves against the door, and Kyle shuddered at the thumping noises and failed attempts. Nobody was seriously hurt, but Woody figured he would join in. There had been four attempts so far, and Woody and a couple of other men lead the fifth, and to his surprise, the door swung open, falling off its old, crooked hinges.

The angry city folk wanted to hunt down the council, whilst the three men were trying to get their friend to safety. They agreed that the safe house was far from safe. The doctor that had helped Dan last night was able to help Will by stopping the bleeding. Shortly after he had been seen to, he woke up in a confused state, so Woody decided to look after him as they made their way out a back entrance that wasn’t rammed with trees blocking it.

Less than an hour later, the men were gathered in Dan’s flat, as they decided that they all needed to talk. The events that had occurred over the past twenty-four hours had given them reason to believe that they couldn’t let things go on as they were.

“You ruined things for us,” Kyle started off, folding his arms in anger and not looking at anyone in the room, but Dan’s ears were burning and it was as clear as day that he was talking to him.

Dan could only hope that Kyle was referencing what he thought he was.

“Ruined? How the fuck did I ruin things?” Dan asked viciously, unable to look the man in the eye.

Kyle remained silent, as he clearly hadn’t thought of a way to back up what he was saying to the blue-eyed man. He hadn’t expected him to be angry. Well, he didn’t really know what to expect. The men beside him weren’t his friends anymore. They were strangers, and he had always been told _not_ to talk to strangers.

“You ruined things by drinking, going out. We didn’t know where you were. You were the root of things falling apart,” Kyle skilfully blamed the man, as he knew that his words were one hundred percent true.

Dan didn’t react well to Kyle’s blame. At first, he nodded as if he had accepted his past mistakes, going out late at night, not telling the group where he had been and waking up in random bars without a clue. Then, what would follow was something Kyle could have never imagined.

“It’s your fault. Always checking up on me. Always in my ear. You were like a fucking rash. All of you. Who needs that?” Dan replied to Kyle’s convincing argument, which had clearly fallen on deaf ears.

Kyle felt shocked that Dan would even lay into him that way, ripping him to shreds in front of the people he used to think as friends, soulmates. That he would get so personal, to the point that all that was coming out of his mouth was bile. It was revolting, disgusting, and it stung the younger man’s heart like no acid ever could.

Meanwhile, Will was still holding a cold compress to his head, where the pipe had hit him earlier. He’d had a scare, because he had never been unconscious like that before. He had realised that he could have died there if Dan hadn’t rescued him. The men in the room had an attachment to him, one that he thought would be for life. As soppy as it sounded inside his brain, he wanted to keep that attachment strong, but by the way conversations were carrying out, everyone seemed to be pinning the blame on one another,

“I think we all did things. Bad, bad things that lead to where we are right now,” Will expressed his concerns, and it was a fair point to make because it took at least _two_ to argue.

Silence fell, and it was clear that his voice had been the voice of reason, though it was noticeable that Woody hadn’t said a word. He thought it was best he didn’t say anything, because he thought it was very bad, even psychopathic, that the only person he had feelings for was Will. In a way, physically and metaphorically, he would have been more than happy to have drowned in that safe shelter. Nobody wanted to talk things over. Nobody.

“So what are we going to do?” was all that Woody could ask, without causing another argument because he didn’t help with the tension between the group last night.

A familiar silence cast over the room again, and though they were all angry, they looked at one another. Usually, when friends wanted to make a go of things again, they started seeing each other more often and keeping in contact. However, Dan’s phone was making hissing noises and had been since he had almost drowned in that miserable river.

Just as Will was going to suggest something, the men heard alarming thumping and crashing noises coming from outside Dan’s flat. Kyle jumped at that, and ran to the window to observe what was causing all the noise. Though outside was a mess, with tree branches strewn everywhere and debris scattered across the streets, there were a couple of young people dressed in black holding baseball bats. Kyle’s eyes widened as he saw them smashing houses and looting. They seemed to have their eyes set on Dan’s flat. Slowly, he turned back to the men in the room, grabbed Dan’s key and locked the door.

“Kyle, what are you doing?” Woody asked, as he was the first to notice the younger man’s strange behaviour.

“What’s all the noise about?” Will groaned, sliding towards Dan’s small kitchen and preparing himself another cold compress for his head injury, as it had been bugging him all afternoon although he’d taken a year’s supply of painkillers.

The younger man said nothing but put his fingers to his lips, turning off the lights and scanning the room. He couldn’t believe that people would take advantage of such a terrible disaster, but the city had changed – and it had changed for the worse.

“Just look outside briefly, and stay calm,” Kyle ordered the men, and surprisingly, one by one, they did as he said, each one taking a deep breath afterward.

Dan’s breathing grew more irregular by the second. Since the breakup with his friends, he had been feeling quite content in his own home, and would feel unsettled if anything were to happen to it. Woody scanned Dan’s flat to see if he could find a safe way out, but there was no hope.

“We can’t just sit here,” Dan snapped at Kyle, who was surprisingly calm, standing with his arms folded.

Nobody agreed with Dan, as it was a hopeless situation because the looters outside were armed.

Before anyone could add to anything, there was a loud, deafening noise as Dan’s front door was unlocked. Kyle began to wonder how, because it wasn’t like the looters had a key. His eyes widened as four young men dressed in black flooded into the room, their Nike trainers squelching from the state of the city outside. One of them, the one that had came in first, was holding a key between his fingers with a smirk on his face. They wore hoodies, so it was very difficult to see their faces.

“Go,” one of the looters ordered, looking at the men as he clearly didn’t have the energy for a fight, though it was obvious they meant business because Dan noticed there was a spot of blood on his fingernails.

Kyle was the first to get up, followed by Woody. Dan gave Will a stern look not to do anything rash, and the men followed Kyle outside, where one of the looters had escorted them. It wasn’t raining, but the sky was just as dull as it had been the night before they had all bumped into each other again.

There was a weird noise Kyle hadn’t heard for a while, and he realised that it was a van. It was a big, dirty white van parked outside Dan’s flat, though he questioned how the looters had got a hold of it and how on earth they had managed to get it through the rubble across the city.

They were forced into the van, where Dan noticed that there was one driver. Nobody guarded them, and they were plunged into a bit of darkness as the doors were shut on them, and they only had each other.

By that point, Dan was extremely stressed. His flat had been seized, his parents hadn’t heard from him in nearly four years, and they would never know if he was dead because they probably wouldn’t be able to find his body. If the looters were smart, he figured that they would burn his body or throw it in a river, back to the source of how the shitstorm started. The man ran his hands through his dark hair, tugging at the delicate strands as he did so, his breath rate becoming higher.

Dan started to look around him, and the space was so small, so horrible. Surrounded by those people, _those friends_ who would be no help to him. He began to freak out, and he lost control. His body started to shake, and it started off in a subtle manner.

It didn’t take long for Kyle to notice Dan’s condition, and he needed everyone to be as calm and as sensible as possible in a hostage/kidnapping situation like this. He was having a panic attack, and it frightened Kyle that he had no idea what to do, not like before. The panic attack Dan was having now was worse.

Since they were all sitting in a row and Kyle figured that nobody else would see, he lifted his hand and placed it on top of Dan’s. The warmth coming from the younger man seemed to calm him down. He then linked their hands together, and Woody did see and gave Dan a sympathetic smile, which he saw and calmed him down. Will put an arm around Dan, and the shaking began to stop. His body seemed to relax, and his head seemed to drift towards Kyle’s shoulder.

Woody put his hands together, looking up for heaven, praying for the rocky journey ahead as the van’s engine began to start up.


	3. 3. They Call It The Draw

Dan awoke to the harsh morning sun, and he groaned. It took a lot of effort to open his eyes, and when he did, he was sitting on a reasonably comfortable bed in a small room. For a moment, he thought what was happening to him had been a dream, but he was wrong. That saddened him, because he realised that the room he was in wasn't his own. It had one very small wardrobe, a beside drawer and a lamp on top of it. There was a very small window, too.

He got to his feet, feeling very confused why his friends weren't around him. Dan raised his eyebrows when he noticed he had called those men his friends. They were on the path to recovery, though they still had some time to go.

Though Dan was a tall man, he struggled to peer into the window, for it was structured too high onto the wall. From what he remembered, he and some men had been kidnapped by some looters after they tried to sabotage Dan's flat.

As soon as he came away from the window, he stood in front of the door and tried to consider the enormity of the situation he was in. He remembered having a serious panic attack last night, and they guys had gotten him through it. If it hadn't have been for them, he would have freaked out.

Suddenly, his door slammed open, and Dan's eyes widened as he stepped away from the door. A man entered, dressed in a black uniform, scanning the tall man up and down. From what Dan observed, he couldn't have been older than he was, and he was twenty nine. The unknown man had very light brown hair under his black cap. He made sure not to look at Dan directly again, as that had been his first mistake.

"Breakfast," was all he grunted, casting his eyes away from Dan and trailed out of his bedroom, leading him to food.

Dan didn't say anything, and he followed the man. Common sense would have told him no, but he was hungry, and had been through a lot in the past forty eight hours. They went down a few corridors, and he began to feel anxious that he would forget what room he was in, though he noticed a tag on his wrist telling him his room number.

Again, the man said nothing as he approached a canteen bustling with people of different nationalities and looks. They were people from his city. A weary-eyed Dan made his way toward where the food was being served, and was surprised to find a variety of English muffins and toast. He picked up some English muffins and a glass of apple juice before making his way over to a table. The canteen was very square, and the walls were metal, he was sure of it.

Will soon joined him at his table, with two armfuls of toast and a glass of orange juice. Dan wrinkled his nose at the bits he saw in the revolting drink. Woody came two minutes into their meal, with nothing but three apples and half a slice of toast. Kyle was the last to join the group, and looked a little nervous as he sat down with just a chocolate chip muffin, which Woody soon became very jealous of. Now that they were sitting together, it was more than clear that they were friends, right?

"What is this place?" Woody thought to ask, tapping an apple against the wooden table they were eating their breakfast on.

The shaggy-haired man looked around him, witnessing the same metal walls that Dan had observed not too long ago. There were uniformed men spotted around the canteen, watching people who weren't in uniform. He also had a tag on his wrist, from what he suspected was his room number.

"I just have a bad feeling. A really bad one," Kyle expressed, nervously shifting positions and dusting imaginary dandruff off his hair.

A minute or so later, it was agreed that they all needed to find out more about the situation that they were in, and whether they could get out of it. Will casually eyed a girl sitting not too far from the group, with long blonde hair and light pink lips. It took a few seconds, because she gave Will a strange look. Then, when she realised his stare was more than creepy, she happily moved up to the group.

"Could you help me?" Will asked the young girl, and she seemed infatuated by him, so she nodded and twirled her hair around her finger before moving a little closer to him.

Woody scoffed at her attempts, even though the older man had initiated them. He'd always been really close to the older man, and over the years, no girl held a candle to his big ego and cool-looking image.

"Could I get your name?" the girl dared to ask, and Dan felt himself cringe at her attempt at flirting.

The older man answered accordingly, and they found out that her name was Margaret. She was a pretty girl, and he liked using it to her advantage. Will eased into the conversation, mentioning that he was wondering where the hell they were.

"They say the council put us here," Margaret gossiped, looking over her shoulder to make sure the uniformed men weren't behind her, or anywhere near her.

Kyle raised his eyebrows at the thought. Though the city's council weren't the best to ever exist, the idea seemed insane. After all, they had organised a safe house from the storm. Surely they weren't aiming to make everyone miserable?

"Apparently, they want to cover up how poorly handled the storm was, with the prop-up shelters and all. Rumours say a few died in those shelters because of neglect. So they put us all here," the young, beautiful girl went on to explain, and as she leaned over to grab her tag that had fallen from her skinny wrist, Will himself couldn't help but eye her, and Woody too.

Though she had explained things clearly, and that the city was home to a corrupt council who wanted to shift its city into a giant, metal hotel until media attention blew over, the men were still confused.

"Does this place have a name?" Dan thought to ask, and it was a good question.

Suddenly, Margaret leaned over the table, and the blue-eyed man got an eyeful of her chest, to which he was very happy with.

"They call it The Draw," she whispered.

The men looked at one another, exchanging nervous glances. They really hoped that one of their past songs had not inspired a corrupt council to do something so impulsive and borderline strange. Dan began to wonder why the girl hadn't recognised them, but his musical past was long gone, and it had been the same for all the other men.

Margaret disappeared, and Will began to miss the feeling of her long, blonde hair touching his arm. The things he would have done to her-

Meanwhile, Kyle had been nervously observing the room for the last few minutes and was surprised to discover that there was a gym, a bowling alley and many more attractions to which he assumed were free. The men sitting beside him were the only people he had in The Draw, and he felt a bit anxious about being left on his own.

"I think we need to stick together, and we need to get the fuck out of this place. It feels Hunger Games," Dan groaned, pulling at his thick, almost black strands of hair on top of his head.

In agreement, the men nodded. They soon learned that they were pretty much free for the rest of the day. Since they were sticking together, Dan and Will went back to their rooms whilst Kyle and Woody took it upon themselves to see if they could dig up any more information on The Draw in the various attractions scattered around the facility.

Once Dan and Will got to the halls of residence, they were annoyed to be told that they could only loiter outside of their rooms and not go inside together, where the guards couldn't see and hear their conversations. Dan told Will to meet him two hours later at the gym, just before inmates, as they called themselves, had to go back to their rooms. Curfew was set at seven, and the men assumed that it would not shift or change.

Two hours later, an annoyed Will was waiting for a late Dan at the gym's entrance. They weren't sure if they were going to work out, but when Dan did arrive in jeans, it was clear that they weren't. Suddenly, a thought popped into Will's head when he had run into Kyle earlier and he had told them that he and Woody had no success in finding out more about The Draw. Will knew that the ex-singer might not like what he was going to say, so he mentally prepared himself for that possibility.

"Can't you get friendly with a guard?" Will suggested, and it wasn't a bad idea either, because it could help them.

Dan wrinkled his nose, watching his friend's eyes closely. He'd been close to all the men at one point, but his heart skipped a beat because he thought that Will had found out something that he didn't really want anyone to know.

"Sure. I can find common ground," Dan fed back, and off he went to his room, not planning to burn off any calories, to Will's dismay.

Once Dan did get back to his room, he took his time about it. His guard that had welcomed him into The Draw had appeared, and Dan stood in the doorway of his room and eyed him. The guard started to get a little uncomfortable, and he began to wonder why the blue-eyed man was staring at him that way. He made sure not to consider his eyes, because he had been taught not to get attached to the people in the facility who weren't guards.

"Could I help you with something?" the guard asked, feeling confused, as it wasn't his job to be mean, it was his job to enforce rules and make sure that the inmates were as comfortable as possible so that they would have no complaints.

The tall man thought about how he would reply, and since Will wasn't around to see or hear, he smirked at the guard.

"You can, actually," Dan answered.

There was a silence, and the guard was as stiff as a board as he tried to figure out what the man wanted from him. There was something to the man stood in front of him that made him uneasy, something that he couldn't work out. When Dan asked him to come inside, he wanted to question him, but that wasn't in his job description. The guard did as he was told, and came inside the small bedroom with a toilet.

What the guard failed to notice was Dan locking the door, and the guard was praying that he wouldn't have to get physical with the man. It was something he had been taught to do, but he only wanted to do it as a last resort. He was looking at him like a piece of meat, and he began to wonder whether offering to give the man help had been the best idea.

It was easy enough for Dan to pounce on the man, sliding his lounge down his throat. He couldn't be bothered with getting to know him, and he just knew that the guard was gay. If not, it wouldn't be too hard to turn him. As much as the guard wanted to resist, his tongue moved in time with Dan's, and he couldn't help moaning as Dan pinned him to his small bed against the wall in the room.

The guard's moans only encouraged Dan to mark the nape of his neck quickly and sharply, easily finding all of the right places to make the younger man's eyes roll. They were prevented from going much further, as the younger man would quickly get embarrassed and his face would turn red, causing Dan's conscience to turn on and he would decrease his pace. Eventually, he withdrew his lips from his, smiled at the guard and they remained on his bed.

The next morning, the young and confused guard had woken up, surprised not to see the dull grey walls of what had been his bedroom for the past few months. He'd noticed the man that he'd kissed last night was awake beside him, and nervously he bit his lip as he began to question the choices he had made the following night. Sam could picture another man's hands on him, pulling his hair to prise pleasure out of him, running his lips down the nape of his neck. Surely it was impossible for him to break any more rules.

For the first time in a few hours, Dan made eye contact with Sam, who got embarrassed quickly as he blushed and looked away from him. Now, the older man figured he would have to change his tactics if he wanted to get information out of the guard.

"How long have you been here? It must get lonely," Dan asked, assuming Sam didn't have any significant others in The Draw.

As he expected, Sam was still quite shy following the events that took place last night. Every time he looked at the blue-eyed man, he would melt into a puddle. Even being with him for longer than a minute was going against all his principles and rules.

"A few months," Sam replied bluntly, and Dan was worried that was all he was going to get out of him.

Though the guard thought he could cope, now that he had come into actual emotions and physical human contact again, he wasn't sure that he could go back to what he had been doing before. Sure, he would do whatever the council needed him to do, but he would always remember the older man's eyes, his soft tone and his way with words.

Dan was surprised at how quickly Sam rolled out of bed and started buttoning up his shirt, pulling his socks and shoes back on. He sat up, feeling the comfort and warmth disappear from his body instantly. For the sake of getting out of the crazy place, he realised he had to make _one_ last attempt to get closer to the younger man.

"Will I see you again?" Dan wondered innocently, making sure to maintain eye contact with Sam, who was determined to avoid his gaze.

There was a pause, a pause Sam couldn't bear so he turned back to the older man for a brief moment and nodded. It was a quick, brief nod - but it was enough for Dan to know that what he had set out to do had been successful. Within a minute, the guard had left, and Dan was alone once again.

An hour later, as previously planned with his friends, he went down for some breakfast in The Draw's canteen. It was just as busy as it was yesterday. Like the day before, he made his way over to the bustling queue and waited accordingly for something to start the day with as he scanned the room. There were guards scattered around in their necessary positions, as well as _inmates_ , as he and his friends called themselves and everyone else - eating and sitting down. Although he was in a good mood, his food and drink barely filled up a quarter of his tray.

As he sat down, he was joined by Woody, followed by Will, and then by Kyle. Their rooms were all on the same floor, almost in a row, but they never waited outside because they were unable to have a conversation with the guards listening in. Indeed, it was like being in a prison. Once they were sat down, the men felt like the could relax more.

"Are you surprised nobody's recognised us?" Woody wondered as he scanned the room too, noticing that nobody was going out of their way to wave at them or send flirtatious looks their way.

After what had happened, Dan wasn't really surprised. A lot of things had gone down those three years ago. He could blame nobody for losing interest in Bastille and what they had stood for. The group came to a general consensus that they weren't surprised.

Over in the top right corner of the canteen, Sam stood, briefly making conversation with another guard before deliberately making eye contact with Dan. The older man noticed and smirked at him. _At least he'd done something right._ Unbeknownst to him, Kyle was rolling his eyes at the blue-eyed man.

"So," Will said, and by his tone, Dan knew that he was going to say so he acted quickly and kicked him underneath the table, causing him to jump.

Woody was getting annoyed too.

"What? Did he sleep with someone?" Woody wondered, for he was curious at what Will had been hinting at...

Kyle rolled his eyes for a second time. They'd been holed up in some unknown location at the hands of the council for less than a week and he had already managed to connect on that level with someone - that was something that he expected Dan to do. Ever since he saw him drowning in that river, he thought they had come onto common ground, but clearly, he was wrong.

"Did you not find out anything then?" Kyle inquired, and Dan didn't really want to speak to the younger man at the moment because of the vibes he was getting from him.

"He's been working at The Draw for a few months," was all Dan revealed to the group, because if he told them that Sam also had to be back on duty by eight in the morning, they would jump to conclusions and he wasn't ready for that.

The men finished eating, and throughout the rest of the day, Kyle had gone completely silent in regards to anything to do with Dan Smith.


	4. 4. Bastille Killed Laura Palmer

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I tweaked this chapter a little (just the top line)  
> assume 3 years ago is whenever (this fanfic isn't a reflection of real life, its an AU, in terms of all the songs they have now being written)

It was three years ago, when British-based band Bastille had scored yet again another concert, that time, in the city. It had been very hard to score a concert so big in a place with just under a thousand inhabitants, but they'd managed to do it - somewhere close to them, their hometown. The lead singer, Dan Smith, had been worried whether or not the people in their city would understand their music. He'd been worrying about it all day, and twenty-four hours prior to the concert date. Of course, Kyle was one of his best friends and he'd been comforting him for the past forty-eight hours. Clearly, the singer was overreacting. Woody and Will would have comforted Dan too, but they figured they would leave it to Kyle.

A stressed Dan Smith paced around his hotel room that morning. The camera crew had warned him not to drink that much coffee because his eyes looked a little wider on screen, but he had ignored them. Even though Mark Crew wasn't their manager, he would be annoyed too. Come to think of it, he had been like a father to the whole group. Generally, Dan had always been bad with names, and he couldn't bear the thought of trying to remember their name of their current manager at that moment in time.

At the right time, there was a knock on his hotel door. For a moment, he raised his eyebrows in case it was a fan who had found out where he was. Just to make sure, he walked up to his wooden hotel room door and pressed his ear against the door. From what he could tell, he couldn't sense any excitable shuffling or heavy breathing, so it couldn't be a fan. Slowly, he lifted his left hand and prised the stubborn door open. Behind it was a tall and thin younger man with a beard.

Instantly, Kyle could tell that the singer had been driving himself insane with his own insecurities and his anxiety for the upcoming gig. He put an arm around Dan, pulling him closer to his side.

"Listen, it'll all be fine. You'll belt out some amazing notes, the girls will swoon, I'll get the _slightest bit jealous_ and we'll have had a really good night," Kyle convinced him, throwing in that Simmons humour in there.

His humour made Dan smile, then laugh. In that moment, he saw the bigger picture and figured that he should stop worrying.

"Yeah, I guess so. I appreciate this," Dan thanked the younger man, and Kyle winked at him before opening the door, for they were due downstairs in ten minutes for the long coach ride.

Before leaving the hotel room, Kyle grabbed hold of the older man's hand, squeezing it tightly. Dan raised his eyebrows at that, but thought nothing of it as Kyle had always been very touchy-feely over the years. Hurriedly, they made their way downstairs and out of the hotel, meeting the two other keen band members inside the coach.

As soon as Dan stepped inside the coach, he dropped himself down on one of the rows in the middle, three rows behind an already asleep Woody, wrapped up in a scarf and a hat. He plugged his earphones in, going over some of their recorded practises as he found himself drifting off too, in rhythm to the bumps in the road as they made their way to one of their biggest concerts to date.

Two hours pass, and they make it into the city centre and get themselves set up for the concert. Will is backstage at that point, checking all the instruments were good to go. Woody is the most excited, as he'd brought his lucky drumsticks with him and was determined to throw them at Kyle straight after the gig, much to Kyle's dismay. Dan had relaxed by that point, and he too was excited to go on stage and show the people what they were all about.

When it was time for them to get on stage, Dan walked out first, took one look at the crowd and instantly fell in love at all the people cheering him on. He knew then that it was his time to shine as he confidently gripped his mike tightly and spoke into it.

"So lovely to see you guys tonight. Good grief!"

His response was one big cheer and a few laughs, and that made him smile because it wasn't often that whole crowds of people actually found him funny. It was the little things like that, what kept him going on every single day.

Then, the music came on, and his heart raced but he managed to keep himself calm as he took a deep breath, looking back at his bandmates for support. They knew about his anxiety, and they nodded at him. When he could see that everyone was depending on him, he turned back to face the crowd and swallowed his fears, and as soon as he opened his mouth all his fears melted away, carried out into the crowd.

_The night was all you had_

_You ran into the night from all you had_

_Found yourself a path upon the ground_

_You ran into the night, you can't be found_

The singer was nervous about hitting the next few notes for the chorus, but again, his feels disappeared into nothingness and he just knew everything was going to be fine, as it always was, as it always had been.

_But, this is your heart_

_Can you feel it?_

More than he had expected, the crowd burst into a loud applause and cheers for the band, appreciating their music and understand it more than he ever could. He felt so happy in that moment, and he would always remember it.

After performing one song, there was about a two minute break for the instruments to be swapped and for the track to be checked over again since Dan got paranoid. One of the sound check guys suddenly came out on stage, which was surprising as they only came out in emergencies. Dan couldn't remember his name, but he quickly made his way over to him. The sound guy made sure his lips were level to the singer's ear. His eyes widened when he was informed that a seventeen year old girl had gone missing, and he needed to announce it.

The blue-eyed man's hands shook, because what he was experiencing was a nightmare as he forced himself over to the mike, much to his bandmates' confusion as the track hadn't started yet. Dan checked if it was working, then turned to a distracted and distressed crowd.

"Hi, I've just got something to say....a girl's gone missing, Rachel Richards. S-S-She's seventeen, she's five foot six, blonde and green eyes. I-If anyone has seen this girl..."

His words turned into a haze and blurr. _To think something so horrible could happen at one of their concerts._ Kyle quickly rushed to his side, trying to calm him down. Will was the most worried about what would happen, for they had to cancel the concert, surely. The girl was under eighteen, she was vulnerable. Nobody had the heart to announce it.

An hour passed, and Dan couldn't bring himself to make another announcement. Nobody had found the girl yet. They were all shocked, because everything was so peaceful where they were. They all lived near a calm-flowing river, for God's sake. How could anything bad happen, especially during one of their big gigs?

Another hour passed. No sign. The public were starting to lose hope, and the crew didn't know what to do. The band were starting to get booed, and that was when Woody had to finally call off the concert, narrowly dodging someone's phone aimed at him. Since the town was so small, everyone knew everyone. They'd seen the girl before, they knew what she looked like, and they could only hope for her return.

Soon, the police arrived and if it wasn't official that the concert was off when the drummer had said so, then it was official from that moment. The leading policewoman did have a word with the band backstage and told us all to remain calm, but the lead singer couldn't. He was that close to having a breakdown.

"What do you mean remain calm? Where is this girl? How'd she go missing?" Dan inquired, nervously tapping his feet against the floor.

Naturally, Kyle put an arm around the singer to try to calm him down. Woody seemed to clock the gesture, but decided not to make it obvious that he'd seen, so he looked at the floor instead. Like a friend would be, as Kyle told himself firmly, he was concerned for Dan's welfare, as it seemed like a panic attack could come on at any moment.

"Rachel Richards is dead. I'm so sorry," the policewoman announced, and there were a series of gasps from the band members and members of the crew who were also lurking around backstage.

It took a while for Dan to digest, as the men had met the girl before. She'd been a huge Bastille fan. He could remember the memory vividly. She wore a long, white dress and her best makeup while greeting them, not taking his eyes off the lead singer. Of course, it had been a massive crush, but Dan was worried that her love of him and the band had resulted in her early demise. _The girl was only seventeen._

"Some members of my team found her body at the river bank. They were horrified to find her tied up and wrapped in some kind of cling film," the policewoman explained, going on to say that a gang of townspeople were also there at the scene as they had been the ones to report it to the police.

Shortly after the police left, people were starting to leave the venue more quickly. There hadn't been a murder in the town for many, many years, and at the age of twenty six, Dan considered that to be a long time. Who would want to kill a young girl in that way? _Clearly they had been inspired by Twin Peaks._

That just made it even more of a nightmare for the lead singer. A modern day Laura Palmer.

To make matters worse, Will pointed out how they could hear booing from the crowd that were remaining. Woody estimated it was about one hundred people since the town was really small, but they started to throw things on stage like earrings, phones, anything they could get their hands on. Dan gasped, and it was like he was watching his dream crumbling before him. _Why were the town so angry at them? They hadn't killed an innocent teen._

"Should I say some words to calm them down?" Kyle wondered, looking at the group and trying to sniff out consensus, but there was a clear silence.

Briefly, Will risked a glance at Dan who was distraught, sitting on one of the sound boxes in the corner of the room. He'd been sitting there for a good ten minutes since the policewoman had left. Kyle feared that there was no saving him.

"I don't think that's a good idea, Ky," Will expressed, and the younger man nodded, fiddling with a rubber band around his wrist.

The men made their way back to their hotel. None of them spoke, because they didn't know what to say. Technically, they hadn't done anything. They had just been unfortunate enough to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. As they walked back to their rooms, Woody happened to plug his headphones out. He'd been listening to the radio, so his phone decided to play the audio aloud.

_...News. Treasured teenage girl Rachel Richards found dead. Police say it was not peaceful and are treating the death as suspicious._

The bassist gave the drummer a sharp look, and Woody came to his senses and tried to turn the radio off, but his phone had frozen.

_...information on this, please contact the police immediately. Her disappearance occurred at a Bastille concert, to which family say she so desperately begged for tickets for. Little did they know that Bastille would be the cause of her death._

Immediately, the bassist and the keyboard player both turned around to look at the drummer and his phone as a miserable Dan Smith continued to walk in front of them. Woody exchanged a series of annoyed glances with Will as he didn't know what to do.

"Turn that shit off," Will warned.

Finally, Woody managed to get his phone under control and they went into their rooms. Dan went into his first and didn't say goodnight. He slammed his door and locked it as he intended for nobody to visit him during the night.

Unfortunately, the lead singer made a mistake of sitting on his bed in his hotel room, turning on his phone and going straight into twitter. His notifications had blown up, and funilly enough, he hadn't been expecting that. Dan was confused as he made a perplexed face at how many people had tweeted in the past two hours.

 _@bastilledan_ _No wonder why poor Rachel went missing. Why did you have to have your concert here? Nobody would have heard or seen anything!_

_@bastilledan you guys should have closed off the concert earlier! we might have find Rachel alive or smth!!!_

_@bastilledan bastille killed Rachel! bastille killed Rachel!_

_@bastilledan what the actual fuck, you let these things happen at your concerts? man, u need 2 upgrade ur security and shit. that girl was 17 man and u guys are probably out in a pub getting pissed like the death of a young girl don't bother u. isn't it nice to be a lead singer huh, u wont sleep tonight_

_@bastilledan better watch we don't find out your address mate, i'm thinking of a brick thru ur window_

That night, Dan lay awake on his bed. He could hear a storm brewing outside, to make matters worse. Every time that his phone buzzed or beeped, he couldn't take it. Somehow, he found the strength to get out of bed and head directly for the river bank to which the girl's body had been found. All he did was blame himself for the girl's death.

That night, he lay by the river, rocking himself back and forth as he looked at the taped-off area. He was free to stay where he was, but he couldn't go much further without being hassled by police. Not that he'd ever done it before, but he produced a sealed bag of white powder from his pocket, looking down at it and briefly seeing his terrible reflection in the cold night. Without much thought, he opened the bag and inhaled its contents, letting the consequences of his actions guide him into a depression.

The following day, a horrified Kyle was surprised to a find a dark haired man lying by the river bank, a bottle of bear not too far from his hands. His eyes were closed, and when Kyle touched him, his skin was stone cold. Kyle's heart began to race as he checked the singer's heart rate, wondering how long he had been lying there. He gulped when he found traces of drugs, and how it would look to the public if he was found dead by the river, as if he had committed the murder of Rachel Richards. The singer was soaked through. It would be a miracle if he didn't get phenomena.

"Dan. Dan, I need you to wake up for me. I can't believe you would do this to me. Please. Please, God, please," Kyle begged, for the sake of his friend and the band.

Instantly, he took control of the situation and proceeded in waking up a confused Dan. He did wake up, coughing violently. As much as Dan protested, Kyle stuck his fingers down the singer's throat, causing him to wretch and throw up all the alcohol and drugs he'd put into his body over the last twenty-four hours. Of course, all of them had gotten high at one point, but never like that. _Never._

With a lot of effort, Kyle managed to get the struggling singer back to his hotel room, where he called for a group meeting. Dan groaned at all of the members to get out, but they were persistent in staying. Will was the most angry. As much as he had thought about getting high last night, he hadn't, and it had been for the sake of the band. It was clear that Dan's priorities did not match with the rest of the group's.

He snapped.

Without saying anything, he walked out. Woody and Kyle questioned each other, and Dan was too out of it to speak. Everything was falling apart.

The bassist, as quickly as he could, checked himself out of the hotel, not caring for the things he had left behind and called for a taxi to take him back home, to where he belonged, away from Dan and his wavering values and far away from the death of Rachel Richards.

Another day passes, and things hadn't improved. Due to Dan's developing drug habit, Kyle was finding it hard to cope. For the first time in his life, he needed a coping mechanism for the whole situation. He'd concluded that what was happening to the band was bad, and way out of his control. So he marched up to the nearest store outside of the hotel and bought a pack of cigarettes. He read the instructions, but realised that there was no need, because he already knew what to do. Kyle had found a particular spot in town where he liked to watch everyone go by while he was in disguise, soon to be an ex-member of Bastille.

In that same week, Kyle is smoking outside the local convenience store when he noticed a group of teenagers walking by in matching clothes. He frowned at that, with it being 2014, despite weird trends popping up now and then. However, he dropped his cigarette when he realised they were wearing black T-shirts saying: _Bastille killed Rachel Richards._ His panic levels rose, and he stubbed out his cigarette and left the area quickly, in fear that anyone would recognise him.

Three years later, the ex-singer hadn't dared to sing a single song since that fateful day. His ex-bandmates stood behind him in the music room in The Draw, having decided that they _had to stand for what they believed in, and if that meant supporting the council in the process, then so be it._ Nervously, Dan looked around the vaguely empty music room, surrounded by nothing but a couple of people and some old friends. He tapped the mike, feeling uneasy as he was going to sing.

Like how they used to, Dan looked back at his friends, and was surprised to find Kyle, of all people, smiling at him.

"This one's for River Rachel," Kyle whispered, holding the necklace he always wore close to his chest as he closed his eyes and stretched his fingers.

Dan nodded and smiled back, looking at the audience before opening his mouth.

_We've got to, find out who were are (find out who we are) x2_

The singer was surprised to look into the crowd, who seemed to clock onto the irony of there being a pro-Draw band, though they started to cheer like they used to, to the sound of his voice.

_Thinkin' to myself_

_Who needs a voice? They leave scars_

_Who needs to aim high? It's too far_

_Who needs the power? It's so hard to control_

_We've got to, find out who we are (find out who we are) x2_

_Up here in The Draw_

_We don't want to find out more_

_Cause we already know_

_We like its values and beliefs_

_What's wrong with being sheep?_

_It's all in control_

By the time they had continued and finished the song, there were masses of people clapping for them and a few guards had entered the room, clearly impressed by their performance. _Had they just become celebrities?_

Sam, a fellow guard came over to the group. Dan immediately blushed and he shook his hand, and they had to act like they didn't know each other.

"This is great, does your band have a name?" he asked.

Woody and Will gave each other silly glances before turning back to Dan to come up with a name. The pressure was on him, and they didn't mind.

"We're the Drawsticks," Dan announced nervously, earning a frustrated sigh from Woody at the terrible pun.

Even if they were singing for a lost cause and a corrupt council, it had to be a start to all that they had lost those three years ago.


	5. 5. Not The Right Way To Go

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this one's bad for sexual references I apologise in advance

It turned one in the morning, and Woody could not sleep. He'd tried everything - breathing exercises, counting sheep and even stretching, but nothing had worked. Eventually, he got himself out of his bed and tried to peer through the crack of his bedroom door. His room was no different to anyone else's, though he longed for more space despite having his own bathroom. The drummer couldn't understand why he was having sleeping trouble, because he and his friends had done a good thing yesterday. They'd made progress, put a _song_ out into the wild world, the root of how all the heartbreak and despair started.

As he lay awake in bed in the early morning staring at the ceiling, he began to wonder if he had the brains to make a communication system within The Draw. Sometimes, he got bored and would have liked to have some company that wasn't a strict guard standing outside his door and watching him at all times as if he was in some kind of prison. There were no female guards either, so there was a lack of eye candy for him.

He realised he needed to find out as much as he could about The Draw. Woody really wanted to mess with the system.

The lack of sleep aided Woody's mission, as he heard noises outside his door. He reached out to open his door and look outside as he could clearly see there was no guard watching, but he began to question whether the doors were alarmed. Cautiously, he observed the lining of the doors as well as the craftsmanship, though thankfully, nothing seemed out of the ordinary. Slowly, Woody opened his bedroom door and was in shock to discover there were no guards outside any doors in his block. Unfortunately, he was lacking the time as The Draw didn't give them watches. The only access to time were the clocks in the canteen and gym.

By chance, he stumbled across some inmates who were laughing and staggering around quite loudly and clumsily, and he suspected that they were drunk. They were two middle-aged men, and Woody saw it fit to question them. What gave them the confidence to wander around his block when there could have been guards around?

"Hey, where have you guys come from?" Woody wondered, as he wanted to appear friendly before there was any need to get physical.

The men looked at each other, and it was good news as they had no intention of laying a finger on the shaggy-haired main. Their vision alone and combined was quite blurred, contrary to their massive alcohol consumption. One of them, the taller one, grinned at Woody and was determined to paint an amazing picture of where he and his friend had just been.

"The sex house," the taller one beamed, and he was about to go into detail of what he and his friend might have been doing there, so Woody quickly stopped him.

He was about to let them go, but it would be a good opportunity to find out more - like where the place was and how they knew about the guards going away. The block Woody and his friends were in was block 3A.

"The guards, you knew they wouldn't be here, in this block," Woody pointed out, wanting to find out more information, as much as he could from the two drunkards.

The shorter one sniffed, and the drummer began to suspect that he was high as well as drunk too. _Ah, he hadn't seen that in a while._

"In block 3A, the guards clock off at two in the mornin'. They come back at eight though, stay safe brother," the shorter man told him.

Before he let them go, he bit down on his lip and tried to bring up his final question in his brain. _He really didn't want to ask it. He wasn't that kind of man anyway, but it was for a good cause. he hoped so, anyway._

"Where's the sex house?" he asked, not believing the words that had just come out of his mouth.

The men sniggered and laughed, and his instantly regretted asking the question. One of them told him the directions, and it wasn't too far. _This was definitely not the right way to go,_ He thought.

Reluctantly, he gathered his friends and woke them up at two in the morning. Will was not impressed and was ready to kill his guard when he opened the door, only to discover that it was Woody. Will frowned, wondering what kind of rules the man had broken, and whether that would result in him getting killed. Anyway, Dan emerged from the corner of the bassist's eye with his hair all over the place and in standard nightwear. Woody sighed and told him to change, whilst Kyle was ready and roaring to go. Five minutes later, Dan came out of his room.

The drummer explained what had just happened and the newly formed band were delighted to have some new information. Out of all of the men, Kyle had slept the best until he had been rudely awakened.

"So, are we going to the sex house?" Will asked.

All three men looked at the bassist. Well, they _thought_ they had known him well. _They hoped he was joking, in the least._ It was clear that he wasn't, because he had that determined look in his eye. Kyle was the first to give in, followed by Woody, then Dan.

As Woody led the way, Dan followed behind everyone else and he was in a foul mood. Sam had told me they would meet again, but he had stood him up when they were supposed to meet. Sure, their _thing_ hadn't been real on Dan's part, but he was starting to like the idea of having someone he could meet and do things with, feel things with. He hadn't been in a relationship in years, since his last one was with-

"How does one even set up a sex house in a bloody prison anyway?" Kyle questioned the whole concept, and that was something the drummer next to him had been wondering from the get go.

Five minutes had passed, and Woody came to a halt as soon as he started hearing upbeat, hip-hop music. It sounded like The Weeknd to him, and that music was pretty much banned in a place like The Draw. Will was on a hype and was the first one of the men to voluntarily step inside with his hands in his pockets and keeping his head down. Kyle scoffed and mentally noted that he would cuss the man later.

The men had stumbled across some kind of massive room in the 3A block with a reception, though the music was quite loud. Behind the reception was a man, roughly five foot eight with gelled blond hair. Just by looking at the men, he could tell that they were first-timers. The tall, skinny blue-eyed man caught his eye, and he made that noticeable as the men made their way toward the desk. Dan blushed at his efforts, whilst Kyle rolled his eyes.

"Welcome to The House," the receptionist welcomed them, and Woody could feel his eye twitching in the dim lights of the main reception area.

The man went onto explain how there were different sections of The House, and somehow Kyle managed not to laugh throughout the whole explanation. There was the strip clubs, the _meeting rooms_ and other various rooms that anyone could come in and watch whatever was going on. Dan found it was nice to know that The House did not discriminate against any sexuality. The receptionist mentioned that there were _workers_ who you could exchange information and objects with, which was unfortunately what they needed.

"I'll do it," Dan offered instantly, as he was very annoyed about the whole Sam situation and was looking for something nice, quick and casual.

Once again, Kyle scoffed, and the blue-eyed man was starting to get annoyed at the keyboard player's little digs at him. He was very tempted to raise his arm and whack him across the face with his elbow, but he wasn't one for causing a scene.

"You've already had some," Kyle dismissed, and Dan scowled at the younger man for trying to ruin his fun.

"I didn't have sex," the singer corrected the younger man, but he wasn't buying Dan's story, not one bit as he knew the kind of man that he was.

Whilst the two argued over completely nothing, Will thanked the receptionist and marched straight over to the strip club, where Woody reluctantly followed him. The drummer figured that he would need to get _really drunk_ to be able to comprehend what was actually happening. Dan and Kyle were about to follow the two, until the receptionist had something to say.

"There's room for men like us too," he whispered, and Kyle shut the man up by shooting him the dirtiest look alive.

The two other band members followed Will and Dan, to be overwhelmed by both male and female strippers eyeing them. There was one stripper who seemed to be off duty, an exotic looking girl with long, light brown hair and tanned skin. Her eyes were a tree green and her hair was backcombed and messy. Regardless, she still looked amazing to Will. The stripper's eyes took a liking to Will, so she made a beeline for him before anyone else could.

The bassist was negotiating her giving him a dance, though the stripper wanted something in return. He returned to his band members to try to work out what. She whispered something in Will's ear, and he nodded straight away. The rest of the guys watched as he was whisked away, and Woody folded his arms.

"Dick," he insulted the bassist.

Will responded by giving the band members the display of both of his middle fingers before he followed the stripper to wherever she was taking him. Meanwhile, there were now three men left, awkwardly looking around the strip club. Weirdly enough, they'd never been in one before. Not even as a part of Bastille, ever.

Anyway, Dan began to feel anxious of the time, and it was something Kyle had brought up in the past ten minutes, too. His eyes were set on a man in the corner of the strip club, surrounded by women though he seemed agitated. Dan raised his eyebrows at that, though he liked how the golden watch on his wrist gleamed in the flashing lights of the club. Confidently, he made his way over to the man, who looked at him straight away.

"Could I get the time, mate?" Dan asked, just to test the waters.

The man leaned forward in his seat and put his hands together. From first glance, he was very attractive. The strippers that were surrounding him began to lose interest and turned to Dan instead, much to his dismay.

Meanwhile, two members of the band were standing in the same place they had been since Will had run off with a stripper. Woody was starting to wonder where Dan had gotten to, as he said he was going to the toilet. Ten minutes had passed since then, and he was worried something bad had happened to him. Kyle suggested scanning the strip club. It was about the size of six standard rooms in block 3A, which covered a lot of ground. The drummer advanced further into the strip club to find two men in the corner, alone. They were kissing, for sure. He recognised one man, but he didn't say anything to Kyle when he found him in the opposite end of the club.

Not a minute later, Dan returned to the remaining band members with the right time. It was half three in the morning. The bassist returns shortly after, with a smile on his face. Woody pulled an annoyed facial expression.

"Amber, she says guards come in here. She's written down the times they come in, their names and what they look like, Apparently, they don't say shit," Will gossiped, fixing his hair in the nearby reflection of a pole.

Suddenly, Dan began to feel even more annoyed. He wasn't sure why he cared, but what if Sam had been in there? _Instead of being with him, like he should have been. Wait. Dan couldn't have possibly developed any feelings for a guard. No way._

"That Sam guy, you'll meet again, right?" Kyle asked, and Dan hated it when he got involved with whoever he was talking to.

The blue-eyed man nodded. Kyle could see it in the man's face that he was bothered by something, but he knew for a fact that he would be the last person Dan would choose to tell the truth to. He'd always been such a secretive person, after all. That was how things had ended for the band.

"We should probably leave," Dan suggested, desperately wanting to change the subject from Sam, the unreliable guard.

The other members nodded in agreement, and they made their way out of the strip club, through the main reception and out of The House. As the men came out, Will was in a great mood compared to all the other men. The walk back to their rooms wasn't a long one, and since the guards in 3A were guaranteed not to come back until eight in the morning, Woody made himself comfortable in Will's room as they played with some cards Kyle had found. That left Kyle and Dan, two men who _almost hated_ each other.

Without saying a word, the men dispersed into their rooms, and Dan was left alone once again. Feeling exhausted, he stripped off immediately and got into his bed, somehow seeking comfort in his thin bed sheets. He must have fallen asleep faster than he anticipated, because he hadn't even bothered to take his contacts out. _He would soon regret that in the morning and as a result, would have to make changes to his routine._

With a start, Dan woke up. The man was very pissed, because he thought, for once, he'd had a good night's sleep. In fact, he had been wrong, and he had been wrong _a lot_ lately. As usual, there was a glass of water by his bed. At about half past eight in the morning, there would always be a glass of water by his bedside. He'd wished Sam would have woken him up and said hi. At least the nightmares weren't as bad anymore, he thought.

It took a lot of effort for the man to reach other and grab hold of the glass of water. He felt the cold glass on his lips and thought nothing of it as he downed its contents in record time. Since he was already awake, he figured it would be good to get up and get ready for yet another day in The Draw. In less than ten minutes, he got showered and dressed. Peering out of his bedroom door had become a morning ritual, and he was about to do it until he felt himself stagger.

Shortness of breath. _Relax,_ he told himself. The man found himself blinking rapidly and trying to regain consciousness, despite feeling as if the walls were closing in on him. At first, he thought he was having a heart attack, but he wasn't. There was clearly something wrong with him, he felt _strange._ Objects in front of him started to turn different colours as they faded in and out of his vision, not to mention how weak his knees felt. Before he could question his condition any further, he fell to the floor with a loud thud, his arms sprawled on the wooden floor.

Less than a minute later, a guard came in, closing the door behind him and standing over the unconscious man on the ground before him. He got hold of the singer's arms and dragged him out of the room, knowing full well that there were no guards that could see him do so as he had sent them to do errands.

A confused Dan Smith awoke in a slightly bigger room than his two hours later, rubbing his head in agony and groaning at his aching muscles. Slowly, he looked up and was surprised to see Sam standing opposite him. It took the singer about a minute to think of some reasons why he had ended up in a foreign place with stinging muscles and maximum amnesia. After a minute, he had a good guess.

"How...did...I get here, Sam?" Dan asked the young guard slowly, playing dumb but wanting an honest answer all at the same time.

The younger man seemed reluctant to answer the singer's questions, though he felt as if he owed it to him. He didn't want to tell him in words, since he'd already done that by telling him they would meet in secret again. So he made a simple hand gesture.

"You _drugged_ me?" the blue-eyed man assumed, and was right to assume at the lack of words that were coming from the guard's mouth.

At that moment, the older man was ready to forget about how much he had missed the guard, and tried to on his feet immediately, but couldn't. He began to panic at what Sam was planning to do with him. Scanning the room, the young guard was standing by the door and didn't seem like he was planning on moving any time soon.

"We couldn't make it obvious."

Dan scoffed. He could not believe the craziness, let alone carelessness of his actions as he could have very well ended up dead.

"Anyway, I have you in my room for the day. So, that means..."

The singer's eyes widened as Sam came and sat next to him on the bed, and he quickly began to feel uncomfortable. He felt torn, because he knew he needed to get information from the guard and was practically using him, but how could he trust him? There was nothing he could do as the man got on top of him, as he couldn't move his body.

"I know you want this," Sam mentioned, and as much as it annoyed the older man, he was right, whether he'd just drugged him or not.

 _Plus_ , if he was willing to take control, Dan thought, he didn't mind as much.

"I want this," Dan whispered.

Elsewhere in block 3A was a nostalgic Kyle, who felt confused as he saw that on his way to breakfast, Dan wasn't trailing behind him in a mood, nor was he heavily sighing at his attacks on him.

It was while munching on his chocolate muffin that he wondered whether hating Dan was the right way to go.


	6. 6. Delivering Words

  
Dan woke up, feeling uneasy. He sat up, feeling annoyed. The man saw comfort in the bed sheets, and snuggled in them, hoping to forget about it, but he couldn't stop thinking about it. He began to feel guilty for using Sam for his own personal gain, though Sam was using him now.

Was that fair?

Plus, the blue-eyed man began to think about how he had ended up in his own room again, and his stomach was rumbling greatly. Suddenly, his door opened and Sam walked inside of his room, smirking at him. It sent shivers down Dan's spine, and he couldn't figure out why.

"Lunch," he notified him firmly, and Dan felt uneasy.

With good reason, he saw it fit to ignore the man and found his way back into his comfortable, warm bed sheets. When he didn't get up, Sam swiftly made his way toward the bed, which scared Dan. He sat up immediately, breathing heavily.

"Why are you looking at me like that?" Sam questioned the man, clearly sensing that something was wrong.

Dan shuffled around uncomfortably as he tried to pick his words carefully. He remembered Sam had gotten on top of him last night.

"Um...what...did we do...last night?" he asked the younger man slowly, and realised he would feel intimidated by him until he got a straight answer.

When he didn't get an answer, he gripped onto his bed sheets tightly and closely eyed the door, attempting to work out the quickest possible escape route.

Obviously, the younger man could sense the vibes the blue eyed man was getting from him, and instantly put a hand over his mouth.

"Oh God no. No, I drugged you, we didn't do anything. You were too out of it," Sam admitted, and his word was all Dan could trust, though the younger man was telling the truth.

The singer's muscles began to relax, though he was very wary of the younger man and wouldn't be drinking or eating anything from him any time soon. _He should have noticed Sam had spiked his water._

"I want to be alone right now," Dan declared, though Sam scoffed at his request and told him to get out of bed.

Reluctantly, Dan got out of bed and went down to the canteen for lunch, where he immediately made a detour for his friends instead of the food. When he sat down, and by the way his friends were looking at him, he realised he had made a mistake in not freshening himself up. He looked like hell. Like he'd taken a whole bucket full of drugs last night, and Kyle was giving him that look too.

"Are you not eating?" Will asked the man, and though he didn't eat very much anyway, that wasn't the point.

Dan shook his head, shivers running down his spine as he caught Sam looking at him from across the canteen. Suddenly, he felt sick and made an excuse to leave the canteen and go to the nearest toilet. He felt the walls closing in on him, fast. Kyle recognised the signs.

"Go, go," Woody told him it was all right for him to leave the pair and go after the singer.

Kyle took to his heels and followed the man, to witness him freaking out in the men's bathroom. Dan was sweating uncontrollably, feeling strange that drugs had entered his system again. He felt a lack of control, a tightening in his chest. Slowly, the bearded man approached him, putting his hands up.

"Dan. Dan listen to me. Dan, look at me."

In no time, Dan's attention was brought to Kyle, and he began to relax a little more when he realised he had to be in a safe environment if he was around. To show sympathy, Kyle smiled at the older man.

"Do you want to talk about this?"

Adamantly, Dan shook his head. It was too embarrassing, so there was no way he was going to bring that up - not in a bathroom, anyway.

"Dan, I know Sam drugged you. I had my guard keep watch of you, and he interrupted Sam so nothing happened. I'd stay away from him though, he's dodgy as fuck."

The singer sighed in relief, thankful that Sam hadn't violated him in that way. He thanked Kyle with a hug, and that was the most physical contact they'd had in ages.

Meanwhile, in the canteen, Woody was starting to get annoyed with the two taking so long, not to mention the main reason why he was annoyed anyway. Will was worried, so he nudged him to prompt him to speak about it. Woody put his knife and fork down and eyed the bassist.

"OK, so we think something went on between them, but why were they trying so hard to keep it secret?" the drummer asked Will.

That was a good question, because Will had no idea. The pair weren't homophobic, and they'd been raised accordingly, though they could be wrong with their suspicions so they needed to be careful, too.

"I mean, maybe they don't want us to know. Everyone has a private life, and I guess being gay is theirs," Will suggested, and it made sense.

The two men cut their conversation short when Dan and Kyle returned from the bathroom, and the singer seemed to have calmed down as his breathing rate was back to normal. Will had some information that he wanted to share with the others, but he was right to think that the canteen where the guards could hear was not the right place to do so. He made sure to watch Dan closely, as they had started to put the past behind them, he realised what the singer must have been dealing with three years ago.

By observation, Woody had also noticed a watch on Dan's wrist he seemed to have acquired, which he guessed had been from last night when he saw him kissing a stranger. They weren't meant to have possessions like that, though the guards didn't have much against watches. He figured he would the theme of that with the singer at a later date.

At three in the morning the following day, when the corridors were empty and quiet apart from the booming music coming from _The House_ nearby, the band gathered in Kyle's room. It was no different from anyone else's, though he did have a bigger window which Woody envied greatly. Since the rooms were quite small in general, let alone big enough for four grown men, Kyle and Dan sat on the bed whilst Woody awkwardly perched against the bearded man's wardrobe and Will hovered on the wooden floor.

"The girl I was with, she told me I could do favours to get in with the system," Will mentioned in passing, and the men's ears perked up.

They seemed interested in what he was going to say and thought it would be a good idea, though the drummer wondered _what favours_ he would have to do to get the guards to like him, and when he saw the confidence in Will's face, he did not like the idea one bit. Firstly, he knew he wasn't going to tell him what the _favours_ would be, and secondly, he'd spent most of his life trying to keep the older man out of trouble.

There was a silence that passed following the tension between Woody and Will. After two minutes of complete silence, Woody gave in and sighed deeply. Kyle risked a glance at the drummer, who shot him a dirty look so he shrunk back down into the bed, trying to blend in like a chameleon.

"OK, as long as you don't kill anyone, that's fine," Woody condoned whatever Will was planning to do that early morning as he ran his hands across his face as he tried to come to terms with what each other were getting involved in.

Obviously, with Will not being aware of what had went on exactly in the bathroom earlier, he touched upon the subject of Sam which made Dan awfully uneasy. He could sense it as Kyle looked at him with a spot of care in his eyes, something which he had seen before over three years ago.

Since nobody had anything more to offer, it was up to Will to carry out his mission. Before the drummer could let him go, he placed a firm had on his shoulder.

"Is it illegal?" Woody asked, and that was his final question.

Unhelpfully, Will replied with a shrug. The drummer sighed as the band went their separate ways a minute or so later. Kyle was happy to return to his bed, unlike Dan whose thoughts often kept him up at night anyway. Woody was too concerned about Will and his own sanity to fall asleep.

At half past three in the morning, Will made his way, as told by Amber to the 4A block. From what he had found out, there were six areas, each with three blocks in: A, B and C. Each area held one hundred and fifty people (roughly, if they were to account for those that had died in the storm) and fifty people in each block. As Will made his way to block 4A, he had to wonder how the council had managed to move everyone so quickly, and what The Draw might have been before it was converted into the kind of prison district they were all living in.

Just as he had expected, there was someone slumped against a nearby corridor. Feeling anxious, Will looked around him. He had to be very careful around area four, because he didn't have the rotas of the guards, meaning they could be stalking the corridors at any time. However, given by the fact there was a young man, roughly seventeen who looked pretty out of it near a wall, he figured that he had some time. Slowly and cautiously, he made his way over to the young man.

Unfortunately, Will had started the younger man, and he jumped in surprise. From first glance, the young man might have seemed tired, but it was clear to Will that he was high. His vision blurred as he tried to pull himself together.

"Who...who are you?"

Will thought about his answer carefully. He couldn't have the young man recognising him by name, just in case - as sorry as he felt for him.

"That doesn't matter, kid, where'd you get your fix from?"

"There...there...there isn't a set person...things...get delivered."

Curiously, Will looked around the corner of the corridor to see if he could catch the person that had delivered the drugs to the young man, but there was no sign of anyone. He'd half expected that, since he seemed as if he'd been high for a while. Will figured he wouldn't get much out of him, and he made sure not to help him back to his room either. An act of kindness was the fastest way to make a person recognisiable.

As if the gods had been hearing his prayers, he heard the faint sounds of footsteps coming from the distance. It was a twenty three year old with blonde hair, well built and tall. Unlike the other inimates, he was dressed head to toe in black. There were dark circles around his eyes as he'd been up since three in the morning making deliveries to the right blocks in area four. His nerves worsened as he saw an older man with a beard at the end of the corridor. 

Calmly and slowly, the blond man opened the door in front of him and dropped the package off. He assumed that it didn't matter, as the man at the end of the corridor had already witnessed what he had just done. The delivery man took a deep breath, preparing himself as he walked towards the man. The moment he passed a curious Will, the man drew his hand back and smacked the older man around the head, causing him to lose his balance and stagger to the floor, losing consciousness.

Roughly twenty minutes later, Will regained consciousness in a foreign room which he suspected was in block four somewhere. He was good at surverying areas, though, then again, he could be very wrong. A guard was at his bedside, as well as the man who had knocked him out, which he hadn't been very pleased about. From that, Will assumed that anyone who saw someone deliver anything would face the consequences, and he worried about what those would be. The guard stood at his beside finally decided to speak.

"You've seen us, so now you have to become one of us."

Will frowned as he was thrown some black clothes, identical to the one the blond-haired man was wearing. He was also thrown a rota and some teenager-looking shoes.

"You'll do Mondays area two, block 2C. Be punctual."

The bassist felt confused as he was told afterward not to tell anyone (excluding his fellow deliverymen) what had just happened. That, he could comprehend. It was also followed with a delivery of harsh words. Also, he was told that if anyone happened to see him on duty, he would have to follow by example and bring them back to the room his was in. He made his way back to his room, wondering why the hell The Draw had a delivery system and what items people received, and how they got them in the first place.

The following early morning, when Will and his friends were away from the guards, he gave them the rota he received and he spilled the details of what had happened to him. Woody wasn't very pleased at the mention of drugs, though he condoned it as the bassist had fallen into it by accident. Speaking of deliveries, Dan had received a package with mystery contents earlier in the day, but he had been wary of it so he brought it inside Woody's room for the guys to inspect.

In the end, Kyle was the one to open it, and he was surprised to find a reasonably sized notebook and two pens. The men all wondered who it was from, though there was no indication anywhere on the passage, the notebook, or the writing materials.

"I didn't ask for this. Is that how this shit works?" Dan wondered.

Will shrugged. All he knew was that he'd fallen into a profession he wasn't too keen on, one of which he had been forced into, though if it somehow helped him get in the guard's good books, it would be worth it. Strangely, Woody's door opened and a package was left in it. It was addressed to Will, which was even weirder, and the bassist began to worry that a deliveryman knew about his gatherings with his band mates.

The already confused man was surprised that he had received a watch from an unknown sender, which he assumed to be the guard so that he didn't have an excuse to be late. It was a pretty nice watch, too, and he could get used to it.

Unbeknownst to the rest of the men, when they all dispersed and went back to their rooms for the early morning, Dan felt happy he had received something from someone, until he saw a page three quarters into the notebook with writing on.

_Wanna see you sometime soon. Hopefully, we won't be interrupted like we were last time. Here's something you can use to get down those songs of yours._

- _Sam x_

The man dropped the notebook, as the message in itself had sent nothing but chills down his spine. OK, in the moment, he might have said that he wanted it, but that was only due to the fact he was under the influence of drugs and he felt quite pressured at the time.

He _did not_ want to see that man ever again.


	7. 7. To Be The Victim

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one is bad on the emotional scale just to warn you especially towards the end of this chapter don't kill me pls  
> to make up for it i'm treating you to chapter 7 (this one) and chapter 8 in one day ;)  
> if something doesn't make sense or I've pasted something funny please flag it up - I write on word as I prefer it so I have to copy and past often  
> thanks if you are putting kudos and stuff on this :) writing this can take me hours sometimes, lmao  
> I chose not to archive warnings btw sorry for that

 

From what the men had found out from Will the day before, they seemed unsettled in their new environment. It had been two weeks since they'd been thrown into The Draw, a prison like facility with guards, a gym, a bowling alley and many more hidden organisations. It had been supposedly set up by the council as a way of regulating the town's behaviour and to settle any unrest since the storm that killed numerous people who died of neglect in shelters, though the men were not aware of a meeting in block 6B.

It was a well lit room, hidden from the rest of the inmates. Nobody suspected that the guards had a main headquarters. Many suspected that they had their own rooms, to which they did, but the headquarters was not a social gathering room. Guards were called there for rewards, punishments, and general announcements. They weren't to go in there unless instructed by someone higher up. In that room, on Thursday were some guards from the block the men were in, as well as some guards from area four. There was a big, wooden table in the middle of the room, and the guards from area three were gossiping about what it might have been for, until they were silenced by a head guard that came into the room.

Slowly, the head guard pulled out a brown envelope and placed it on the table. The head guard happened to be the deputy head of the town's council, Mr John Hill. For some reason, he felt the need to call a guard up to empty the envelope's contents. A very young guard was called up to perform the task, a very tall and thin lad aged about eighteen. His father was apart of the council, hence his forced membership. He hated the regime in The Draw, though there was nothing he could say about it, and he gasped as pictures of the inmates slipped from the envelope, scattering themselves all over the table.

Present in that meeting room at that moment in time was Sam. There were about ten guards in the room, and they were called up to the table to have a look. John Hill asked Sam directly to pick a favourite. At first, the young guard was shocked that someone with such status had let alone even _remembered_ his name, never mind speak to him directly. The answer to the man's question was a no-brainer for Sam, however, as his eyes were glued on the face of an older man with bright blue eyes. Instantly, his hand moved toward his picture, and he drummed his fingers on it accordingly, resulting in Mr Hill nodding.

The same process was repeated for a number of other guards, and a couple of women were picked for more _personal_ reasons, along with Will. That perked the interest of John Hill, who was curious as to why a guard on area four picked a man based on area three, assuming that they had never crossed paths before.

"He could be very useful to us, I assure you. I've been watching him for a while, now," the guard who had chosen Will as his favourite explained to his boss, smirking at the thought of how his spying had gone completely undetected - as he was one of the few guards who were actually enjoying their role in The Draw.

Mr Hill looked at the determined guard for a second, and considering questioning where he had gotten his confidence from, but he thought better of it. Right then, he was a little frustrated at something that was out of his control, for he was a middle aged man, and he found that as he got older, the more unexpected his life became.

"I'm going to suspect you won't tell me your findings," Mr Hill chose his words carefully, eyeing the guard for any signs of weakness that he would let something slip, but to his surprise, the guard stayed very firm.

A chuckle escaped the guard's mouth. Sam had to refrain from telling him off, because even he himself thought that was a bad move, though Mr Hill let it slide. He had been the man who had forced Will to join his delivery cult, and he praised himself on that because that must have been one of the best moves he had made in The Draw. The guard's name was Terrance, and he'd grown quite fond of Will because of his assertiveness.

"Of course not. He's mine," Terrance declared the man rightfully as his, which earned him a strange look from Sam.

Hill sighed heavily, as there was no controlling a man who chose to do as he pleased, when he pleased. He was almost thirty three, but really, he behaved more like sixteen year old boy around his friends. It wasn't that he was a loose cannon, but he had slowly been getting there over the years. His first strike had been his outfit choice. Most of the time, he did conform to the guard uniform, but Hill had gathered reports from guards that they sometimes saw him dressed fully in black clothing. Of course, Hill had an idea of what he had been doing, but he didn't want to question the man. Terrance was easy to recognise, a tall, white man with very light brown hair tied back in a bun with a scar on his lip and a nose piercing. Hill would fuel his ego for a little while.

"And you, Sam, why Dan Smith?"

At the sudden change in direction, Sam's eyes widened and he wondered why his boss had been in such a decent mood that morning. He wasn't a particular favourite of Hill's, not like Terrance (though he was more on his watchlist) so he was suspicious of why he was addressing him so casually.

"He promotes the regime," Sam answered smoothly, because he couldn't say that he'd been having romantic feelings for the older man as he risked a beating.

It was a good answer on Hill's part, one that he didn't question, though he was curious as to why the younger man had been in such good spirits as of late. Anyway, the man with the nose piercing memorised the favourites that had been picked in the room, and would be sure to take the information back to his delivery cult.

That morning, at seven, Dan Smith received a package from an unknown sender. He hadn't talked to anyone about what Sam had written in his notebook. Naturally, he saw the guard everyday outside his door. Luckily, the younger man was often busy with errands so didn't come into contact with the older man. However, Dan decided to open the package instantly and was horrified to hold up the item he'd had delivered to him with just his thumb and index finger.

Feeling disgusted, he immediately placed the plastic-feeling dangling item back into its box, slipping back into bed but watching the door closely in case an unwelcomed visitor decided to pop in.

The singer must have closed his eyes for a couple of hours, because he woke up with his right hand draped to the side of him and his body feeling a lot lighter than it had been before. He groaned, feeling annoyed that he hadn't have woken up sooner. Though he didn't have access to a watch, he could tell it was somewhere between one and two in the afternoon. Beside him was Will, who had slipped in unnoticed. Dan had only just clocked the bassist's presence, and jumped out of his skin when he saw him.

Will witnessed Dan's reaction, and he didn't like it - there was something about it that he picked up on. He knew the singer had his fears, hell, they all did, but there was something in his eyes, he was frightened. Since Will knew how to ease into situations like that, he declared he was going to the bathroom, apologising shortly before. The door closed, and Dan's nerves were at ease again.

Though Will was a deliveryman now, and he had gone through his first shift a couple of days ago, it didn't make him immune to guards. The man in charge of him, Terrance, said that no inmate necessarily became a guard, they had to be trusted. Will didn't want to be a guard, but Terrance did make it clear that if deliverymen earned the trust of him, they would be rewarded with a status, and he reckoned he had a pretty good chance.

Anyway, Dan's door opened, and Will stopped washing his hands, turning off the tap and looking through the gap of the bathroom door which was purposely made. He'd heard off another that Sam was on break for once, and he was right as he could see him make his way uninvited into Dan's room.

"It's been a while," Sam acknowledged.

The young guard was clever, as he could sense some kind of atmosphere with Dan. He reached out to touch his arm, but the older man shyly turned his body away from him. That hurt Sam a little, but he was on his break, and he didn't have time for that.

"Please don't," Dan said firmly, and he was surprised that was the first time he had said no to the younger man.

A silence fell between the two of them. Sam felt a little mad at the rejection from the older man, and he felt confused as to what he had done wrong to make him feel so strongly. Suddenly, he slammed his hand on the wall nearest to him, centimetres away from Dan's head as he leaned in towards him. Dan's back was at one with the wall, and he couldn't look at the younger man directly as he eyed him.  Dan began to think it had been his fault with his original advances.

"Are you going to be like this with me every time we run into one another? We had something before, I felt it in that kiss, the way you talked to me."

From the bathroom, the man in there was disgusted by the vibes he was getting from the young guard. _He was way too full of himself,_ Will thought. Dan seemed scared as he shut his eyes, hoping for the moment to pass.

"Could you keep your voice down?" the singer asked the man politely, who didn't like the tone of his voice as if _he_ had done anything wrong.

It seemed to have made something snap inside the younger man, as he removed his hand from the wall and transferred it immediately to the singer's wrists. Dan yelped in response, being unable to break free at Sam's surprisingly strong grip.

"What? You don't want anyone to hear you scream?" Sam challenged the man, who turned his nose up in disgust.

Panic began to run through Dan as Sam forcefully dragged him toward the bed.

Will could see the altercation from the background, and he was frozen. He commanded every bone in his body to move, but it didn't.

Sam now had Dan pinned to the bed against his own will, and he was on top of him, obviously with one intention to carry out one thing. Dan was very unresisting, and very silent as he knew what was going to happen. He knew. His mind was too clouded to remember that Will was still in his room. At that moment, Dan had started to fight the man off, and they had fallen onto the floor in a struggle.

Taking a deep breath, Will scanned the bathroom. Sam was quite strong for his age, and he reckoned that both he and a traumatised Dan would _not_ be able to take him on, so he grabbed a vase, hoping that Woody would forgive him for the aftermath of what he was about to do. He slowly creeped into the scene, holding the vase high above the younger man's head before striking him with it. Sam's movement stopped for a moment, and he watched the small amount of blood travel down the side of his head and onto the rest of his body as he fell to the floor.

Dan was breathing heavily, and moved out from under the bed as he couldn't believe what had almost just happened to him. Will held the broken vase in his hands, the shards causing bruises and cuts in his hands as he looked at the unconscious body of a guard on his left. Then, he looked at the broken man in front of him.

"You're gay?"

He could see the fear in Dan's eyes as he looked up at the first person to find out his secret. Instantly, he turned away from the man, not wanting to answer.

Seeing as nobody was on duty as many guards were on lunch, Will called for Kyle and Woody to help him. He told them not to say anything, to which they didn't when they walked in and found a mad-looking Dan rocking himself in the corner of the room, and his guard unconscious on the floor. Woody gasped at the sight, and Kyle looked at Will in horror.

"I-I-Is he? L-Like?" Kyle stuttered, and Will gestured for the man to be the one to check whether Sam was actually still alive.

Reluctantly, the bearded man bent down and checked the pulse of the unconscious man on the floor, his hands shaking as he did so. He uttered something along the lines of how the guard was still alive. Whilst Will was washing his own blood off of his hands, Woody and Kyle managed to quickly drag Sam into the toilets on the floor nearby. They hoped that someone would assume he'd gotten drunk and knocked himself out.

The two men came back into the room, where Dan was sitting in the same spot. Kyle suspected the man was getting in the stage he usually did before he had a panic attack, so he thought of comforting him. Will came out of the bathroom, but was too late to warn Kyle not to touch the frightened man. As soon as he reached out an arm to him, Dan jumped out of his skin and demanded that he didn't touch him. Of course, Kyle was hurt, though Will gave him a look of sympathy and guessed that something had gone on.

Without saying much, Will gathered Woody and Kyle in the bathroom. He was intent on not telling the men what had almost just happened, so he made something up about a run in with Sam and he didn't want to talk to anyone. They understood that much, though Kyle was suspicious of what had gone on.

Two hours later, Will happened to run into one of his deliverymen and apparently, inmates were going to have some kind of meeting-interview type thing. He felt anxious about it at first, and wondered how Dan would react to it. Will got word that the event for area four was going to take place the next day in the morning, and he worried about Dan.

Regardless, the singer still woke up in the morning, feeling very sore. He swung his legs over his bed, staring at his bare feet. What did catch his attention was the bright red and purple bruises over his arms, especially his wrists, giving him horrible flashbacks to when _that man_ had been on top of him, pulling at his clothes, not taking no for an answer. It made him shiver as he watched his door, afraid that he would come back.

Dan was pleasantly surprised when a new guard came to his door, announcing that he was going to be taken somewhere. His heart rate was already high at that moment, though in his anxious state or not, it was not good to ask loads of questions. As sore and in pain as he was, he followed the guard without question as he took him to a room between areas five and six, and he sat down as instructed in a grey office chair.

In walked a middle-aged man who introduced himself as Mr John Hill, though the singer had never been too good at remembering names. He began by asking the singer how his day had been, and Dan was going to reply until Hill's eyes were drawn to the bruises and marks all over the singer's arms, which he was unable to hide. As soon as Dan noticed what the man was looking at, he hid his injuries from the man and looked away from him.

"Would you mind telling me how you got those?"

Dan gulped, not knowing what to say. Well, he got the vibes that Hill was important, but he didn't know how important.

"Now, Mr Smith, you are _very valuable_ to The Draw. If you won't tell me, I won't take it personally, but let us make up for whatever happened to you."

In confusion, Dan frowned at the man's generosity as he was told to follow him out of the room and into another one five minutes away. Dan's mouth dropped in awe at how big it was, complete with a double bed, a lampshade, a massive window and his own reasonably sized bathroom, too. When he was told that it was all his for the day, he looked back at Hill and began to question his kindness, but not openly.

What kind of twisted place was The Draw? 


	8. 8. Burying My Head In The Sand

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wasn't sure about them but yay new blood! you'll see what I mean soon

 

Following Dan and Sam's altercation, Will was desperate to get himself up the ranks, but he didn't know how. He was no longer a part of Bastille, but a part of _The Drawsticks_ now, and essentially, they had no manager. At the moment, he felt like he was fathering all of the men. Since he had witnessed what had almost happened to Dan, all he wanted to do was protect him, especially when Kyle felt hurt that Dan wasn't letting him. Two weeks had passed since their performance in the music room near the canteen, and surprisingly, people had been stopping Will in the corridors since, wanting his autograph - but he was loving it. The same went for Kyle and Woody, but not Dan as he hardly came out of his room.

With that being said, the guards stationed on block 3A had noticed the lack of activity in Dan's cell block. One of them, a few doors down from Woody's cell, suggesting going inside, but the others voted against that because they weren't technically Dan's guard. They'd been told that Sam, for some reason, had gone AWOL. The guards had their theories, but they kept them to themselves because really, it wasn't any of their business. There was always a couple of guards who had sympathy for him, so they brought him some food that they left outside of his room. On a good day, there would be a visible bite mark out of an apple or muffin. It took a bit of debating, but one of the guards swallowed the pill and decided to report the inactivity in Dan Smith's room to Mr. John Hill.

Anyway, Will made his last delivery at half one in the afternoon in block 2C. He had received information that the inmate would not be in their room and at lunch, though he got a surprise when he opened the door and found the said inmate in his bed. Luckily, he was fast asleep. Quietly, Will stepped inside the room and placed the delivery down on the floor, tensing up at the man's sudden movement to straighten himself up in his sleep. Of course, Will had been instructed to leave the room as fast as possible, but he stopped to look at the man, cause boy he was familiar. He had dark brown hair, a cheeky look about him and he instantly recognised him. He had never made a delivery to him before, and hoped he would not have to make contact with him again.

After Will made his delivery for the week on the Monday, he headed back to the room where all the deliverymen were based. Oddly enough, only Terrance was in the room with his feet up on the what he guessed was an expensive wooden desk in front of him with a beer in one hand, and a questionable cigarette of some sort in the other. Will tried his best not to raise his eyebrows at that, he walked in, intent of removing his black clothes and changing into his standard ones as quickly as possible. 

"Wait, you're back early. You have time to sit with me right?" Terrance acknowledged, and Will shut his eyes for a moment, going over what he might have done wrong during his shift.

He'd successfully changed into his standard clothes now, slowly making his way over to the man sat at the desk and pulling up a chair to sit opposite him. Will made sure to have some apology lines ready. Unfortunately, he let his guard down for a moment and his eyes wandered to the beer in his boss' hands. Terrance caught onto that.

"Do you want a beer? You deserve it," he asked, and the very question made Will a little nervous, given his bad track record.

Before he could make his own mind up, he decided to come out with it.

"I don't drink," he replied quite firmly, and the reply seemed to shock Terrance as he gave him a funny look and laughed.

Once his boss clocked on that he was serious, he was overwhelmed with curiosity as to why. The only people who chose to be teetotal were the strictly religious, alcoholics and druggies. Through common sense, he doubted that he was highly religious many people in the town by the river weren't - he wasn't himself, either. Unless he didn't fall into any one of those categories, Terrance had an idea. Firstly, he lit his makeshift cigarette, and at second glance and smell, Will realised he was smoking weed.

"Alright, meet me at the..."

Feeling confused, Will stared at the man and wondered why he had be hesitant to finish the other half of his sentence. That was not a characteristic of Terrance.

"I'm meant to let you find it yourself, but fuck it. Meet me at three in the morning on Wednesday, then we can see why you don't get high."

It took every fibre in his body to stop himself from rolling his eyes at the man. He nodded in agreement though he didn't want to go. He had a feeling the meeting with Terrance would involve him being thrown out of his comfort zone and consenting to things that he did not want to do in his lifetime, ever. _Not to mention how he had to wake up at three in the morning just to avoid aggro with the guards._

Meanwhile, that same day at two in the afternoon, Kyle had been prompted to go to lunch by the guard outside of his door. Surprisingly, they got along quite well considering the setting and the situation. Somehow, Kyle knew the guard had his back. He hadn't eaten in a while, though he had been worried about Dan. All he could think about was how Dan had barely been eating, refusing food, wrapping up in everything he could whenever he saw him. _Something had to have happened with Sam._ From what his guard had told him, Dan didn't want to be touched by _anyone_ for any reason. Kyle couldn't help but worry.

That worrying was what made him hesitant about going to lunch. According to schedule, breakfast was compulsory, though Dan must have been getting special treatment in regards to that because he never left his room, despite there being other guards placed on the block watching him at all times due to the lack of CCTV in the facility, though the band were worried that would be introduced very soon. Lunch was optional, and dinner wasn't. In fact, lunch was the only bit of freedom the band were granted other than going to _The House,_ the music rooms or the various gyms and entertainment centres.

Since Kyle couldn't directly check on Dan, he would find a way to communicate with him at a later date that day. Casually, he made a gesture to his guard to take him down to lunch. He followed his guard accordingly, though something stopped him in his tracks as he walked the corridors of block 3A.

It was a girl. Her skin was very pale and her facial expression was blank, though she stood at the corner, staring Kyle down, making him feel guilty. An uneasy feeling began to spread to his stomach. The girl, who was short and thin, couldn't have been any older than seventeen or eighteen. Her hair was a stringy dirty blonde, just how he had remembered it to have been, and it framed her face in a way that suited her, but it didn't look as good and as lively as it had before. It was like straw, rough around the edges and dry. There was no light to her face, as if she'd been living in a dark tower for years. Of course, the one thing Kyle did remember about her was that her eyes were an amazing, indescribable shade of green. On her frame was a long, white dress that seemed to be disturbed by a strong draft.

Suddenly, the girl disappeared and Kyle felt his heart race, wondering where she had gone and whether his lack of words had been the reason why she had ran away. The guard that was meant to be leading the bearded man to get some food frowned at him.

"Is something wrong?" the guard politely asked Kyle, as he was running on a schedule and he could have used something to eat too.

His abrupt question made the bearded man jump. He played off his hallucination with a smile followed by a cheesy joke, and the guard flashed him a weak smile before instructing him to keep up because he didn't want him to get lost. As promised, Kyle did keep up with the pace of the man in front of him, though something else caught his attention.

Once again, the girl was stood in the corridor to surprise him with a serious expression on her face, as if Kyle had done something to upset her. Her facial expression made the bearded man stop to consider something he might have done to her in the past, and whether his actions had contributed to her foul mood. The girl's lips were a pale pink, a shade of pink to Kyle's liking, and they had been back in the day, though she didn't seem very appealing to him at that moment because she felt discontented with him. In shock, his mouth dropped as the girl made a gesture of slitting her throat.

That was the second time now the inmate had come to a halt, and the guard felt sympathy for him. _He could make allowances for that._ What he was staring at was a young twenty eight year old in a rising band formed in The Draw. He was going to be a dreamer, for sure.

"Listen, if I keep on walking, I can turn the other way."

His voice sparked the inmate's attention, who's eyes widened at what the guard was suggesting. From what he knew, inmates were not supposed to be wandering the corridors without a guard at any time. _He couldn't be letting him go, no way._

"What?"

The guard raised his eyebrows, because he was throwing the man a lifeline just that one time and he was not going to throw him another lifeline again, given the fact that he had already done him enough favours.

"You heard me."

And he did, as Kyle smiled at the man as the guard carried on his way, hoping to get in first with a chance at the maple syrup pancakes downstairs. Since he was a smart man, he figured that the guard had been hinting towards him going somewhere, and he had to wonder where that was, so he took a sharp turn to the left and continued walking.

The man came to a halt as soon as he could hear music coming from somewhere in block 3C. He knew he should be careful walking around in unknown territory, though all inmates in area three had the same lunch slots, and most people opted for lunch so their guards were nowhere to be seen. Kyle took that chanced and followed the direction of the music which got his heart pumping. It lead him to what he suspected to be a storage room, but it seemed far from that.

He opened the door, surprised to find an area with people laughing and listening to music whilst having beers. Obviously, he was welcome as a man ushered him inside and closed the door. The room in itself was quite wide, and Kyle liked the atmosphere as he was prompted to take a seat at the bar and order, though he was suspicious what it would cost him. The bartender was a young man, roughly nineteen with long brown hair tied back. He took a liking to Kyle, which wasn't surprising as he took a liking to most of his punters.

"Are you planning to order?" he asked the bearded man, and he saw the lost look in his eyes which intrigued him even more.

Someone asking him a question had only just come to Kyle's attention, and he jumped, surprised that someone had taken notice of him other than that girl he had seen earlier. In response to the bartender's question, Kyle slowly eyed the man. However, the keyboard player lost the battle instantly because the younger man played the staring game very well.

"What will it cost me?" Kyle prepared himself for the answer, ready to turn on his heel and leave the bar if it wasn't to his liking.

Unexpectedly, the younger man leaned forward, his elbows on the wooden oak of the bar as he looked at Kyle.

"What block are you from?"

He relaxed more at the tone of the stranger's voice, slouching in his seat and surveying the area a little less. It seemed like a relatively easy question to answer with very little consequences, so he went for it.

"3A."

"That's all I needed to know."

Hesitantly, Kyle pointed to a random beer on the menu. The bartender got to work on whipping it up, and he began to question what the hell people were doing working in such a facility, as he figured he probably wasn't getting paid for what he did. Then, he was suspicious that the bartender did enjoy his job, so he probably liked doing it for free. _There were very weird people in the world like that, like Dan._

Dan.

The loud sound of his glass being placed on the wooden surface jolted him back to life, and he thanked the man for his kindness, not to mention the three shots of vodka he'd thrown into his afternoon drink. Kyle knew he would get into shit for drinking and he wouldn't be able to stay at the bar for very long, though he really needed a drink, not to mention a whole pack of cigarettes after what he had just seen.

When the bartender wasn't busy, Kyle had an odd question for him which he wasn't sure that he would even think of answering.

"Do you see things, sometimes? Things you aren't even sure if they're real?"

As expected, his question earned him a funny look from the younger man as he frowned at him for the randomness.

"I guess so, I see random ghosts sometimes."

The conversation quickly ended there, and Kyle didn't blame the kid for wanting to stay as far away from him as possible. Plus, he was almost eight years younger than the man himself and _way_ out of his league. Though, by his response, had that meant _he may have seen the girl too?_

Little did a man sat in the corner of the bar know that Kyle had been watching him for quite some time, counting the seconds of how long it would take him to notice him. The man never did. He was sat down by himself. He still looked the same as he had three years ago, similar to him with a pitiful but growing beard and a full styled head of brown hair, not making eye contact with anyone and hoping to lay low.

Though, as Kyle made his way out of the bar, the man sitting in the corner saw him, and vowed never to step in the secret bar again. His delivery earlier that had shaken him up a little, because he woke up with the scent of an awfully familiar aftershave in his room and he _could not_ place his finger on it.

Somehow, hours later, Kyle manages to stumble back to his block undetected by any of the guards in area three. He would be sure to thank God for that later, but instead of finding himself in his own room, he came straight into Will's and had rose suspicion from the rest of the band members except Dan for his absence at dinner.

All Woody saw was a drunken tall man collapse onto Will's bed. He looked at Will for guidance, though Will had seen many things in The Draw lately that he didn't want to question so she shrugged his shoulders. Kyle groaned very loudly and complained about not having more to drink, and Woody was very worried about where he had gotten alcohol from, never mind getting completely drunk.

"The secret bar, just west off block 3C! Great...great...g-great sh...shit there!" Kyle beamed enthusiastically, and for a man that was in a mood for most of his days, his whole demeanour was showing some red flags.

Will was laughing by that point, and Woody got angry at him and threw a delivery box at him to express that anger. Unfortunately, that made the deliveryman laugh more, as his bandmate's fury had always been hilarious to watch, especially in person.

"Kyle, you shouldn't be drinking, and definitely not in a secret bar. People talk," Woody warned him, telling him off which made Kyle a little sad.

Without even asking Will, the drunk man pulled his bedcovers over his head and skilfully made himself look as if he was in a cocoon. The two men had to wonder how he always managed to do that. All Kyle had wanted to do was get pissed and have a good time, which had been his mistake three years ago.

"But Dan, he's...he isn't well. He won't...he won't let me touch him. Won't let...anyone touch him..."

Feeling sympathetic, Woody looked at the drunken man and he began to think about what his relationship status with Dan might have been like three years ago. The shaggy haired man and Will were very sure that they had been shacking up together during that point and right at that moment somehow.

Unbeknowst to the others, earlier, on his way back from lunch, Will had bumped into the same man that Will and Kyle had been trying to avoid direct contact with that same day. Woody was smart and clocked who it was and that he wasn't native to area three, though none of them said anything to each other and simply went on with their ways.

He wished it hadn't been like that.

The three men eventually get Kyle to sober up a little and manage to phsych themselves up into making sure Dan stepped out of his room for the first time in a week. For dinner, they were planning to make him come out of his room. They got called by their guards to go down for some food, and they all came to a halt out of Dan's room. Will took the opportunity to convince the guards that he could get the man to come out. Gently, he knocked on the door.

"Dan. It's been a solid week, mate. You have to eat."

Woody raised his eyebrows, as did his guard as they all heard the first sound that had come from Dan's room in the last week. Will became a little concerned. Inmates didn't have locks on their doors, and no guard had dared to enter Daniel Smith's room.

"Dan. I'm being serious. Don't bury your head in the sand."

Will thought of giving the man a push by knocking again loudly. A second before that, Will's guard warned him not to as a breach of his privacy, though he had to do it for his own good. Dan was delaying their dinner break, though the men didn't mind. Suddenly, there were more noises coming from inside the man's room, and the guards and the remaining band members stood outside of his room all took a step back and series of gasps rose from them as a thin, tired and pale Dan smith emerged from his room.

He could feel everyone's eyes on him, eyeing his bruises, looking at how red they were and they were painful, not to mention the wavy lines were the right side of his neck was. Dan's hair was as flat as a pancake, which was unusual for him, and his eyes were glued to the floor. His face turned a surprising shade of red when Woody said it was good to have him back, and Kyle made a gesture to the other guards not to question him about his injuries, though it was their job to do so. They could smell the booze off Kyle, but they said nothing and lead the men to dinner.

That evening, Dan ate the most he had for one week in one sitting. A few chips off Kyle's plate. The men did whisper to one another as they weren't sure what to say, but Will figured they should at least address what had happened between him and Sam, even if it made Dan uncomfortable.

"Dan," Kyle said, and everyone could tell where things were going to go if he was going to be the one to talk to the blue-eyed man about it.

Dan sighed heavily, and it was a sigh of frustration that stepping into the outside world had been a really bad idea.

"I don't want to talk about it," the singer shut the bearded man down, and his voice sounded very irritated and weirdly hoarse.

Regardless, the men were determined to make him talk about it for their own sanity, and for his as well.

"You're wearing loads of layers, you don't want to be touched. Hell, you're sitting far away from us right now. You're barely eating and I can smell the amount of cleaning shit on you," Kyle pointed out.

Dan shook his head in denial because he guessed that Kyle was going to get onto the point any second, and it was going to be really embarrassing for him. It would reveal his secret, though, on the other hand, he didn't care anymore. _That had to be progress, right?_ The singer wasn't even aware of his own thoughts anymore, because he wanted to sit in his dark room all day and not have contact with anyone. He wanted to keep his clothes on and if he could, he would cover himself with bleach. Though he was sitting a good six seats away from his friends, he could hear them clearly.

"Did Sam try it on with you? He tried to force himself on you? Is that what he did, and Will intervened before anything happened?" Kyle questioned him, and he hated the approach but he had to be the one to ask because Will and Woody wouldn't, plus they would leave it to him anyway because he was the one who knew Dan the best.

In response, the singer nodded very slowly. That was all Kyle needed, and as much as he wanted to reach across the table and hug him, he knew that could wait because he had _hated_ that look Dan had given him a week ago when he had tried to comfort him. Besides, Kyle's tone had officially confirmed Dan's sexuality, at least to Woody anyway - he was protective over him, more than a _friend_ should have been, and he had seen evidence for that over the years. Kyle thanked Will silently.

Casually, Woody suggested they all make an appearance in the music room because after all, music had healed Dan when he was most broken in the first place. Since they all knew him so well, he walked into the room slower than he had previously, but was like a child with all the instruments, not knowing which one to go for first. He took a liking to the microphone, though and the rest of the men flocked to their stations, with Kyle being the strangest staring at the keyboard in front of him as if he was expecting to have an in depth conversation with it.

Without saying anything as he didn't want to alarm Dan, Will pointed (or made an obvious gesture) to the man standing at the music room's entrance, amazed by the complexity of the area and that The Draw would even offer something as wonderful as a second home to him. It was the man they had all seen earlier. His hands take a liking to a nearby piano, though he was too nervous to play it with _The Drawsticks_ eying him.

Dan sees the man, and figured that if he wanted to start healing himself from within, he would have to step out of his comfort zone and face his demons head on first, so he took a step toward the man and gestured for his friends to stand by. The singer plucked up the courage (since there was barely anyone in the music room) to sing acapella.

_Roll up another cigarette,_

_Using the minute that it takes,_

_To think about the power of your words_

The band thought it was artistic what he was doing, though they were unsure whether they had agreed on singing their original songs in The Draw. Whatever, they thought, as they were willing to go with it. His excellent notes and vocal range did not go unnoticed by the audience in the room, who gathered a scattered applause and cheers. Of course, the words were directed at the man by the man by the piano and it was up to him to respond to them.

_We're living in the currents you create_

_We're sinking in the pool of your mistakes_

_So stub it out, your podium awaits_

In that instance, the blue-eyed singer, strangely enough, did mean the words directly aimed at the man by the piano but it wasn't done out of spite as he was willing to move past things, he just wanted a reaction, as petty as it sounded.

Meanwhile, in the space of a few seconds, the apprehensive man by the piano was starting to feel as if the lyrics were being directed at him, and felt a spot of hate for the singer stood in front of him judging him for the actions he had chosen to take over three years ago. He had to fight back, surely, so he opened his mouth and defend himself.

_Oh my God, my God_

_I can't quite believe my ears_

That seemed to please Dan and the band enough, who started to play the necessary instrumentals in the background. The two men continued in what seemed like a sing-off, and by the end of it, the man was breathless. Dan and the other man stared each other down and the rest of the people in the music room could feel the atmosphere become more and more intense.

"What do you want?"

"That's a fair question, Charlie."

It had to start from somewhere, they weren't hiding in the sand anymore.


	9. Tear Me Down

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> are you guys enjoying this? i'm not sure yet  
> comments and kudos welcome, thanks if you're keeping up with this
> 
> *** I might be doing a second part/continuation kinda thing for Lost In A Wild World but I'd need someone to talk me into it as it did take a year of my life (originally) to write as you guys were lucky (lmao) as I'd already written that fanfiction and I was just copying and pasting it from word...unlike this one, r.i.p me

Immediately after their music room performance, the band prompt Charlie to follow them to somewhere where they could all talk. They all walked in a line back to Will's room. Charlie was the last to follow. He was following them at first, then Kyle heard his trainers squeak and he started to run in the other direction. The twenty eight year old had his priorities, too, and they did not including making up with his ex bandmates.

Though, his plan was not well thought out as the Will chased him down in no time, in fact, in the space of eighty seconds before dragging a screaming and kicking Charlie all the way back to his room. Upon entering his room, he threw the man, or more so _screaming kid_ onto the floor and he landed with a thump. Dan had originally wanted to go back to his room, but dynamics had changed now and he had to stay strong. Charlie had become more shrewd looking over the years, and he was sat on the floor with his knees slightly raised and his palms on the floor, his heart racing since Will had closed the door. _He'd always found him scary._

"W-W-Why'd you close the door? W-What?" he stammered.

Woody and Kyle shook their heads at one another in agreement that the guy had fallen from grace and was a total mess. They worried there was no saving him. Charlie sat up slightly, though he was worried about the older man with the beanie on since he had chased him down and would probably be willing to do it a second time. He hoped they wouldn't question him for his sins three years ago.

A man cleared his throat, and it was Kyle who stared the apprehensive boy down.

"Throughout the day, I've been seeing things. I've been seeing Rachel Richards, and she looked exactly as she had that day - with the white dress on, she's walking, staring, not saying anything to me."

The man sat on the floor with the other remaining men staring at him scoffed. Why had Kyle told him something so irrelevant that he himself knew the answer to?

"Guilty men see ghosts."

Dan was not amused and rolled his eyes. He felt as if he should have been taking charge in grilling Charlie because most of the time, Kyle did nothing right, though neither did he or anyone else in the world or The Draw. Though Woody wanted a piece in the conversation, and he leaned forward.

"Then in that case, you should be seeing plenty," the shaggy-haired man commented.

Slowly, Charlie got to his feet and Will was eyeing him even more so. He was wary of that, and would sure as hell not be going anywhere soon. _He didn't know the men standing in front of him that well anymore._

"What are you accusing me of?" Charlie thought to ask Woody, since in the past, they had no beef at all.

The room went silent and all the members of _The Drawsticks_ started to speculate and whisper, even Dan who, until recently, hadn't spoken to anyone in over a week. Once they came to a consensus, a spokesperson was elected. That spokesperson was Kyle, who was more than happy to talk for the lot of them.

"I'm accusing you of having sex with an underage girl," Kyle confirmed, and he looked pretty proud of himself.

There was a lot more to explain, and little did the bearded man know that Charlie had been keeping all of their secrets for a very long time _without_ verbal contracts, meaning he wasn't obliged to keep them. Charlie straightened up slightly, wondering what game he would play and how he would play it in front of four witnesses that wanted his head over his friendship more than anything. Since they trusted each other again, which he had thought would be impossible, they all clubbed together.

"Are you sure you don't mean yourself?" Charlie deflected the accusation back to Kyle, since he always had a little flirtation going with the super-fan.

He watched, pleased as the men began to look at Kyle. He flat out denied it and they started talking over each other, and Charlie was looking at it. Suddenly, the talking stopped and it seemed that all fingers were pointing at Kyle and he had no way of getting out of the hole Charlie had happily dug for him.

Out of the corner of his eye, he did notice Dan's nervousness as his eyes darted to Kyle's, and it was a look of desperation. He could save that big reveal for later, he thought.

"Let's change the subject," Kyle dismissed Charlie's accusation, because he felt no need to defend himself or play right into his game.

The band members seemed a little shocked that the bearded man had not jumped up to the chance to immediately stick up for himself, though that was soon forgotten when the men tried to find something else to grill Charlie with. The deliveryman in the room could think of one thing, though he wasn't sure if that moment was the appropriate time to do so.

"I never thought to ask you on that night, though I'm going to ask you now. Where were you on the night of the concert?" Will asked the man standing opposite them, who anxiously slipped his hands into the pockets of his standard tracksuit bottoms.

Charlie wasn't sure where he stood with the men, but he knew that they definitely weren't on his side. None of them were willing to help him, not even Dan who used to have a lot of sympathy for him back in the day. They had all been marvellous men once, kind, funny and light-hearted, though now there was barely anything left of them. 

"I was with Tom. You guys had barely played the first song, whatever it was - I forget. I wasn't really needed till the second song, so Tom and I smoked somewhere outside."

His explanation was pretty decent and solid, so the band members could barely argue against it, nor question it either. Charlie Barnes had a good alibi, and if they could find Tom to back that up, he was telling the truth. Will saw little reason for him to lie, because it wasn't as if he had been accusing him of murder or anything serious like that. Just to make sure, Will made note to inquire about Tom's whereabouts so that he could confirm what Charlie had been saying had been factually correct.

Not that he could help it since becoming a deliveryman he had to be more alert, he wanted to ask the man just _one more question._

"What were you smoking?"

It was clear that by the man's reaction, he seemed taken aback by that question and he cleared his throat, looking at the older man staring him down in hope that he would back off, but Will was not breaking the eye contact.

"Pot. Fucking pot, alright?"

Will sighed heavily, as it was like Dan all over again. How would he ever know what to expect of the people around him?

Anyway, as agreed earlier in the week, Will met with Terrance at the main delivery room at three in the morning on Wednesday. On that day in particular, Will was not in a good mood though he was trying to make that not known to his boss. After all, he might have been off duty but Terrance was still the man he worked for, for _free_ at that.

He said nothing as Terrance greeted him and told him to follow him slowly and cautiously. Will wasn't suspicious of that command, because the man did say things that did make him question his own existence sometimes. That was code for Will not to follow him as if they were two men going to discuss things that they shouldn't have been. Though they were deliverymen, they didn't have the complete invincibility from the guards. Terrance liked to think he did, thoug that was all in his head.

The men wander into the secret bar as discovered by Kyle two days ago. Will suspected that the drunken man had emerged from somewhere like that. His body tensed up at the door being closed behind them by one of the members of staff, who were eying him as he walked in. Will was clever, and suspected that was because Terrance was a regular, whilst he was not.

Confidently, his boss made his way to the bar and helped himself to a seat, hoisting himself up there with ease. Of course, he wanted to stay as far away from booze as possible so he stood his ground, no matter how weird he looked. The bartender recognised him straight away and whipped him up a couple of shots. The young bartender made eye contact with Will, as did Terrance who gestured him to come over.

"Could you do him a mocktail?"

Will said nothing as the bartender got to work on his mocktail. He mentally congratulated himself for staying relatively sober for the last three years, as he had no idea, even to that day, how he had managed to do so.

"Thanks, Terrance."

Without saying anything more, Will sipped his mock-tail slowly, savouring the fruity taste even though he was trying not to appear bitter for constantly eyeing Terrance's beer and the one shot he had left. He was so tired, too, and was suspicious of his boss because he had plenty of deliverymen to take out, though he chose him of all people - a new recruit, someone barely up in the ranks.

"I respect that, the no drinking thing," Terrance complimented the slightly younger man sitting next to him, and Will felt himself internally cringe.

There was something about the man's tone that made him feel uneasy, as if he was getting onto something that was lurking underneath Will's skin that even he himself might not have known about. The man put him on edge, and that was not a good feeling he got from someone, so he wanted to get out of the secret bar as fast as possible.

"Yeah, it's been a while now," Will replied, just to add to the pointless conversation they were having in the dead bar they were sitting in.

The pair sat in silence for a while, until Terrance eyed a couple of men, along with two women sitting in the corner of the bar. They'd put two of the bar's tables together, much to the bartender's dismay. Terrance jumped to his feet and walked over to the table, gesturing Will to follow him. Slowly, he followed his boss to what looked like a gambling table.

Will froze.

Terrance was unaware of the man's reaction and facial expression until he turned around. When he did turn around to face him, there was a look of fear and hurt in his eyes that even he couldn't ignore or use to his advantage.

Had he gone too far?

"Hey. Let's go," Terrance said, out of general concern for the man who seemed to be stuck on the spot as if he'd been paused in a video.

Will did not need to be told that twice, as he followed his boss immediately, glad to be out of that hot, sweaty bar with drunken strangers that had no idea what they were getting themselves into.

Out of the blue, his boss came to a halt. Will viewed that as not being a very good sign, and he hadn't been very positive in general, not to mention in spite of recent events. Being thrown into The Draw, witnessing a broken Dan Smith and having to go against his ethics, morals and fears, hurting someone he very well presumed dead to protect him and their friendship.

"I'm going to make you an offer, because I like you and I think you're an honest man."

His words made Will's ears perk up a little, and he started paying attention to what was actually going on around him.

"You can do more errands for me, on the back of the delivery job. It's nothing too illegal, I know your friends would worry."

Instantly, Will felt his body tense up a little at how the hell he knew he knew that, let alone him having friends. _He would have to stop those early morning visits._ The look on Will's face was enough to give Terrance his answer, but hell, he loved watching people squirm. Though, he would get to the point before Will would put the pieces together about what he had just said, as he was a clever man.

 _He wouldn't be the one to tear me down_ , Will thought.

"Sure. I mean, thanks."

Terrance patted him on the shoulder and said he would be in contact, although Will was suspicious of that because there was no way to contact another person in The Draw other than seeing them in person.

Meanwhile, a young girl was walking the corridors of block 5B that early morning, hoping to make her way back to her room with knowledge of the guard's rotas in her area. The girl had long, flowing blonde hair that fell effortlessly past her shoulders, and though she was wearing the same clothes everybody was wearing, it was clear to see that she surpassed everyone else. Her life in The Draw was quite uneventful, and she was going to go back to her room and do nothing but sleep.

However, unbeknownst to her, there was another person roaming the corridors of area five, and it wasn't a guard, nor an official inmate at The Draw. It was a man, almost double her age with a couple of piercings and a cool demeanour. He knew what he was looking for, even as he turned a corner and found the prize right in his eyesight. The was happily walking the other way with her back to him.

Silently, he walked behind her, managing to hold his breath as he got closer and closer to the girl. It was amazing how she hadn't looked over her shoulder once, and he began to wonder how he would go about what he was going to do.

"Margaret Henderson. Average height, allergic to eggs. Blonde. Orphan. Joined The Draw on October 2nd with six others. Room twenty in block 5B," the man said, and it seemed as if he had memorised those facts off by heart.

Even though Margaret's thoughts were telling her not to turn around, she did, and very slowly, wondering what kind of creep would know so much about her. Instantly, she regretted it as she looked into the man's eyes, and he was much taller than her.

There was nothing in them.

She was too scared to move at first. It took her ten seconds to see it fit not to question the stranger, and to run.

Though, that was alright for the stranger who took a shortcut to the corner where he knew the girl would run to. He knew the layout of The Draw inside and out, and nobody could top him with knowing that. As predicted, she was there, unaware of his presence, watching her. Margaret was breathless and afraid, wanting to escape that man.

With ease, her stranger made a quick grab for her as she turned the corner. In reaction to that, Margaret screamed at the top of her voice for help, though there was nobody around in area five to help her. Seeing it as an easy task, the man put a hand around her mouth before drawing a cloth from his pocket and putting it to her mouth. The screaming girl saw it instantly and was worried the man was going to try to suffocate her, but he simply placed it over her mouth and she felt her senses slip away and her eyes close.

The man took a deep breath after that, though he made sure not to look at the girl because he didn't want to feel guilty. He dragged the girl into a nearby room, and waited until he received instructions as to what to do next.

"This better be fucking worth it, Hill," the man mumbled under his breath, taking his hair tie out of his hair and tying it up again, only to discover that he'd lost his nose ring somewhere in the struggle.


	10. 10. I Pray

On the 1st August three years ago, five men were in the company of a newly seventeen year old girl at a local hall being used as a party venue. There were a general mix of colours in the room, as it was an event that only came by once a year, and for the seventeen year old, birthdays had always been very dull until that day. Like everyone else, there were a few things in her life that did push her to keep going.

That one thing was Bastille, and unbeknownst to the girl, they entered the building through the backdoor entrance in the kitchen. Since they were quite well-known throughout the town, a couple of the kitchen staff gossiped and giggled among themselves as soon as they caught sight of the tall, blue-eyed lead singer. Despite the disturbance in the kitchen, the staff returned to their jobs.

Slowly and carefully, they made their way through the hall, checking into reception with smiles on their faces before being shown the room where the party was. The room was full of unsuspecting friends and family of the girl in question, looking down into their cups of sparkling grape and the surprisingly good selection of cake. Anxiously, the girl was sat on the centre stage, wondering when the band her aunt claimed to have booked would appear and perform. From what she knew, they were meant to be arriving at half past two, though it was twenty past two and there seemed to be no sign of the said band.

That was about to be transformed when the five men filtered inside the venue, however, happy to be greeted by a series of smiles and gasps that filled the room. People were excited to see them, and had been back then. At the sound of the door opening and the wolf whistles, the seventeen year old was almost frozen on the spot. It was as if all her Christmases had come at once, and her eyes were straight on the lead singer's as he put his hands together before briefly looking around the venue.

"Do we have a Miss Rachel Richards in here?" Dan asked, and was surprised at the volume of his voice as it had bounced off the walls and filled the whole room.

The nervous girl sat on the stage got to her feet, her hands shaking as she managed a wave. She couldn't believe her eyes, not one bit, especially when the band flocked to her, her body froze and it didn't want to move. Rachel seemed to come to her senses after Dan leaned in for a hug, and she could have melted right there. As he broke from the hug, he noticed the girl's eyes gleam and interesting green. It was weird, like a mark of innocence. Her eyes were all over him.

Meanwhile, she shook hands with the rest of the band members. The last one to shake her hand was Charlie, who seemed to have been lurking behind the rest of the men like a shadow. It had only been until Rachel had noticed him and Will had brought him back to planet Earth that he stepped forward, and their hands touched. For some reason, Rachel held the handshake for longer than expected, not that anyone except Kyle had noticed. Due to that extended skin on skin contact, Charlie found himself eyeing the younger girl in her long, figure hugging white dress and sandals. Her eyes were something else, too.

Anyway, the band got themselves together to perform one of Rachel Richard's most favourite Bastille songs. Her attention would have been drawn to Dan, though now that she had caught sight of Charlie, her eyes couldn't help but watch him as the band started to set up their equipment.

_Words are all we have_

_We'll be talking_

_We'll be talking_

_These words are all we have_

_We'll be talking_

_And I hear you calling in the dead of night_

_Oh I hear you calling in the dead of night_

Rachel closed her eyes as she felt every note, every melody passing over her. It felt as if a great breeze of wind had hit her and cleansed all of the badness in her life away. Somehow, Bastille, and especially Overjoyed, seemed to do that for her every time.

As the girl stood there, taking in the song, Charlie's eyes couldn't help but wander to hers. He'd always been happy when fans noticed him, and when they enjoyed the band's performances.

The band were there for another five hours before they had to leave. Charlie found himself packing some equipment away, until a note stuck on the back of a keyboard caught his eye. Curiously, he went over to it and prised it off, observing the note that had a number on and a kiss at the end. Feeling embarrassed, he blushed as it had probably been for someone else in the band and not him. He was about to put it back where he had found it until he caught sight of Rachel standing by the stage, mouthing _call me_ whilst nobody was looking. The man's eyes widened, and he said nothing as he felt pressured to slip the note into his pocket and continue with his day as if that _had not just happened._

A day had passed, and Charlie had some time to gather his thoughts. At that moment, he was on the coach with the rest of the band. None of them really sat next to each other. He wasn't a fan of prawns, since Dan was eating a sandwich with that being the main ingredient. Kyle was sitting at the back of the coach playing music that sounded like an iPod breaking (as Will said once before), and Will was asleep, whilst Woody was playing heavy metal music and it was, unfortunately, keeping Charlie awake.

When he had come to a conclusion as to what to do with the note in the back pocket of his jeans, he took a deep breath as he fiddled with it in his hands. Somehow, his right hand moved on its own and he was holding his phone. Before he could even process what he was doing, he was dialling the number into his phone.

Later that day, when the band were set to get off the coach, Charlie made sure to take extra time packing up his stuff, and it wasn't weird at all because he was usually the last one off whatever vehicle the band were using. He got an urge to grab his phone and call that number.

Though the call had gone through, he had drawn a blank and he was holding the phone with his mouth open. _What had he just done?_ Silence presented itself to him on the other end of the phone.

"Hey, I um...I didn't think you would call," Rachel greeted him on the other end of the phone, a soft, angelic tone to her voice reaching him somehow.

There was no way he could put the phone down now, he thought. The way she had doubted him was not what he had been expecting, and he wanted to rectify that. He smiled to himself.

"Hey," Charlie replied.

However, he was unaware that an annoyed Kyle was stood two metres away from the coach, with his bags already packed and ready to go into the hotel that was waiting for him. The guys had already gone ahead, as they predicted Charlie would take his time. Since the bearded man was sympathetic towards him, he would always be the one to wait up with him and make sure he didn't forget anything.

But that time, he noticed something odd. Charlie was quite a normal, boring person and never had that much to be happy about. At least, he appeared that way to Bastille, but there was something different about him that day. His phone was pressed against his ear, and he was laughing. An uneasy feeling washed over Kyle, and he tried his best to ignore it.

"Oi Charlo!" Kyle called the man still on the coach, unaware that he was wasting his time and draining his sanity in the hot summer heat.

A frightened Charlie jumped out of his skin, surprised that there was someone outside waiting for him. Kyle made an apologetic gesture to the tired coach driver, whilst the man still on the coach ended the call short and gathered all of his things and quickly got off the vehicle.

He was unusually chipper for the rest of the day. Kyle wasn't one to pry, nor was he nosy, but he really wanted to know the contents of that phone call.

\----

About two months after that, the night of Bastille's big concert in the town had finally come around, and each and every one of them had been very excited. Charlie was too, for once, as the past two months had been a _very good_ two months as of late. Seeing as he wasn't needed for the first song (Laura Palmer) he would usually chill backstage, though he had a change of heart that night. He didn't want to sit backstage with a bunch of the camera and sound crew as he _still didn't know everyone's names_ and concerts often gave him migraines, too.

Usually, he would have disappeared with Tom for a cheeky smoke. Tom was Bastille's camera guy, day in day out. He made sure to steer clear of Woody because being watched always freaked him out. That night, Tom had been expecting Charlie to join him by the woods very near to the concert venue. It was like a secret contract between the two of them. However, that night, he was left smoking alone. He wondered where the young man had gotten to.

That night, Charlie took a detour to the town's river instead. It looked like something out of a horror movie at night, and it did phase him a little. All that was on his mind was one girl, and he needed a moment to call her. He'd gotten down to the river quite quickly, and reckoned he had another five minutes before he had to rush back. In haste, he pulled out his phone and called her. He'd been no stranger to doing that for the past two months, either.

"Rachel? I couldn't help it, but you were on my mind. I pray you're alright. Please call me after the gig," he urged the girl before leaving a voicemail, as he felt as if he couldn't breathe without hearing her voice everyday.

Little did he know, he wouldn't be breathing for a very long time.

Before anyone could question his whereabouts, Charlie made sure to pick up the pace heading back to the concert. He'd made it back in time, passing the woods where he would have liked to have a smoke with Tom. By the time he'd gotten to the entrance of the woods, however, Tom wasn't there. Charlie sighed, hoping that nobody had noticed his disappearance. He put his phone on silent in case Rachel were to call him and someone would see, before making an appearance backstage.

_But, this is your heart_

_Can you feel it?_

_Can you feel it?_

~~~~The familiar sound of Laura Palmer ripped through the venue and the stage, and the sound of the fans cheering was enough to lift Charlie's mood a little.

However, somewhere deep into the woods, a young girl with blonde hair was wandering alone, hyperventilating and scared. Every raindrop that fell on her skin made her jump, tricking her into thinking that she was not alone. Every step she took required tremendous amounts of effort as the ground beneath her feet seemed as if it was melting away. In the midst of the trees, she thought she saw a ghost. Her vision was awfully blurred that night, and she could hardly see where she was walking, let alone remember how she had ended up deep into the woods.

While she still had some inhibitions left, with shaking hands she managed to get hold of her phone. Her eyes widened when she made out what looked like a notification for a voicemail, so she opened it.

_"Rachel? I couldn't help it, but you were on my mind. I pray you're alright. Please call me after the gig."_

She was confused to who it was at first, but then she realised it was Charlie and she began to feel better, despite the situation she was in. Immediately after listening to the voicemail, she called him. Her heart broke a little when it went to voicemail, and she realised that he had requested she call him after the gig, though she was scared and didn't know who else to turn to.

"C-C-Charlie? I-I'm in the woods...I-I-I don't know how I got here. P-Please. I-I-I'm scared," Rachel stammered.

In her hazy state, she assumed the voicemail had gone through, but got a shock when she looked back at her dead, waterlogged phone. She stood alone in the woods, lost, and wondering if anyone would find her before _they_ did.

Hours later, Bastille were dealing with the aftermath of a Rachel Richards' confirmed death by the police. Dan was the most distraught, and wasn't keen on talking to anyone. Charlie had disappeared straight after the news had been announced.

Earlier that day, right before the concert was due to start, Kyle had left a note for Dan. He'd been thinking about the contents of the note for days, and what had been leading up to it for years, and he couldn't go on anymore, not until Dan had at least an idea. Kyle had gotten worried as they performed Laura Palmer, as Dan hadn't found it yet, and he wondered if he was ever going to find it. He'd slipped it into the bottom of the man's bag.

Hours later, when Kyle had checked out of the hotel Bastille were staying in as he couldn't deal with Dan anymore, especially when he had almost killed himself by swallowing half of the world's drug supply by the town's river, Dan wanted to freshen up so he reached into his bag for his face cloth. He frowned when he couldn't find it, but felt something of a paper-y texture in his bag instead, but he didn't remember packing a notebook.

Regardless, he pulled it out to see what it was, and was shocked to find a folded note torn from a notebook with writing on. It had six words on.

_**I know you feel the same.** _

A wave of heat travelled up the singer's neck as his draw dropped. The handwriting was familiar, but never mind that, he knew _instantly_ who it was from. Dan looked over his shoulder, worrying that someone was watching him. When he realised he was being paranoid, he calmed down a little, although he was afraid of how to respond. Suddenly, he came to his senses and knew how the note should have been dealt with. He got out of his hotel room and marched to Kyle's, wondering if it was too late.

Unfortunately, it had been too late. Before he got a chance to knock on the door, Dan was informed by one of the hotel staff that the man had left in a fury.

He'd lost him.

To make matters worse, as well as the abuse the band was getting on Twitter, each band member received a mysterious note. Kyle was the first to notice his pocking out of his jacket. Feeling confused, he pulled it out and read it.

_God forgive you for your sins._

A paranoid Kyle looked out of the window of his taxi, half-expecting  someone to be watching him on the pavement. Luckily, there wasn't anyone there.

The only sin he had made was leaving that damned note for an ungrateful Daniel Smith. Honestly, he would have been very happy to pray for the ground to swallow him whole.


	11. Don't Listen To Your Friends

 

In a heavily guarded facility in the town by the river, a girl with blonde hair and a terrible headache woke up in an unfamiliar room. Margaret Henderson was completely confused as to why she'd woken up in a room that wasn't hers, nor why there was a man sat a desk staring at her. All of a sudden, she got horrible flashbacks to what had happened to her in the early morning. A man, grabbing her, stuffing a cloth in her mouth.

 _Had she been drugged?_ The girl started to panic. The man sitting at the desk was quite relaxed, and seemed to be the only person who could help her. With a lot of effort, she got to her feet and made her way over to the chair opposite the man. From first glance, the man was middle aged, with a hint of silver in his hair. _What could he want?_

"What do you know about William Farquarson?"

Margaret thought back to what man he could have been talking about, and she remembered the man that had asked her about the facility almost a month ago. Naturally, she knew he was talking about because he had a way with words. She clocked eyes with the _Mr Hill_ badge pinned on his shirt pocket.

"I don't know much about him. Um...Mr Hill. I just know his name. Well, full name, since you told me. He introduced himself, as did I, no more was said."

Hill seemed to believe her. Having said that, he called a guard in to guide her to a special unit where Hill liked to keep his _projects_. It had also been the unit he'd put Dan in temporarily. Margaret was presently surprised at the quality of the room, and asked no further questions once she was settled.

Ten minutes later, Terrance paid a visit to Mr Hill. He claimed to have faith in Will, and gathered from how unsuccessful the interview with the girl was, despite guards having eyes on that she had talked to Will before.

Once Terrance had gained Hill's trust again, he left the room, thinking about how he could get in contact with the man in question. Usually, he would watch people, though he didn't like doing that too often, because if the people he stalked found out, he would be in trouble. He took a chance that day by swinging by Will's room. Over the past few weeks, he'd instructed the guards not to acknowledge him because he didn't want Will knowing he was more of a guard than he had originally assumed.

A bored Will was sitting against the wall near the bathroom in his room. Somebody had blessed him with a bouncy ball which he had continually been playing with for a week since he'd received it. He'd bounce it against the wall opposite and effortlessly catch it as if he just knew where exactly it was going to land. Terrance caught him playing that game, and Will lost his concentration as the bouncy ball seemed to find its way into his boss' hands.

"Hi there," Terrance greeted the man, not knowing what he was doing as he usually planned exactly what he was going to do and say in any given situation.

Uneasily, Will eyed the room. It was unlike Terrance to give him private visits. If he ever did want to see him, he would most likely send someone for him with a time slot and Will would meet him as required. A few seconds had passed, and Will figured it would be best to address the fact that another person was stood in his room, uninvited or not.

 "What do you need?" 

Terrance took a step toward Will, which made his heart race more than he had expected. _What did he want?_

"I need you to find someone for me."

Although Will wasn't keen on the idea, he agreed and took note of the leads his boss had given him. Since the guards weren't on duty in area one in the late mornings, Will planned to take the opportunity to scour the area. The reason why he had been uncomfortable with the request in the first place was because his boss wanted him to find Sam, of all people. Obviously, the last time he had seen Sam was when he and his friends had dumped his body in a store cupboard somewhere.

While he still had his common sense, he took a deep breath before locating the store cupboard again. It had been some time since he'd left him there, and he hadn't checked back since. The room was like a fridge in itself, so he hoped he wouldn't be seeing any decaying corpses anytime soon. Anyway, with trembling hands, he opened the door to the store cupboard. He gasped at what he saw.

Nothing.

Millions of thoughts ran through the man's mind. If Sam had gotten up and walked off (as he was still reported AWOL by the guards in area three) what could that mean for Dan, for himself? He saw it best to keep that new piece of information to himself and embark on a journey to area one before it was too late.

A quarter of an hour later, he found himself standing in a guard-free area one. He was smart and knew that if he asked around for Sam, it would make people suspicious of him. Funnily enough, his search didn't take long as there was an empty room's door wide open. Will felt uneasy as he approached the room with a terrible feeling in his stomach as he smelled something metallic. His breathing was low and he came to a halt for a moment when he saw an arm lying limp on the floor. Regardless, he forced himself to enter the room and was mortified to find the man he was looking for lying on the floor. Just by looking at the room, there had been obvious signs of a struggle. However, the room didn't belong to anyone, from what Will could tell. His eyes widened as he checked the man's pulse, but he wasn't breathing, though he was glad to no longer feel guilty as it hadn't killed him with his own hands.

It was almost like the scene had been _set_ for Will to find it.

A couple of hours later in the room Jon Hill was in, he and Terrance sat down in a meeting along with a few other very loyal guards to The Draw in order to discuss how they would go about dealing with Sam's death. Along with Terrance were two other guards in the room. One of them was barely nineteen, whilst the other was well into his thirties, both native to area six.

"Father, are you sure we don't have a killer on the loose?" the youngest man in the room asked, and there was a hint of innocence to his voice, though that would have fooled anyone who wasn't in that room at that moment, for he was as cold hearted as Hill.

There was a silence in the room where every man thought back to when a young girl was killed in the town three years ago, and it seemed to answer the young man's question. Hill's son, Palmer, was only sixteen at the time, and since then, Hill had been very protective over him.

"OK, we might, though I didn't think we would be dealing with this problem here. The Draw was meant to keep people _safe_ ," Hill expressed his annoyance to the men surrounding him, not understanding why things were going wrong in his perfect system.

To make matters worse, they couldn't draw up a list of suspects either because nobody could possibly have a motive. Sam was from a completely different town. His family were in New Zealand somewhere whilst he had decided to stay in the UK. Terrance saw a good opportunity to speak.

"The person that did this is staying here, in the walls of The Draw. So we need to tread carefully. We can't tighten any rules, and we can't create a mass panic. If we did, we'll be dealing with more than the death of a nobody," Terrance urged.

All men nodded in agreement. Palmer was a little annoyed, as were many more guards who worked closely with his father because he felt as if Hill listened to Terrance speak a lot more than when he, or anyone else did. The guard stood next to Terrance had an idea, too.

"As crude as it sounds, I know how we can...dispose of this problem," the older guard offered a solution, and everyone in the room was all ears.

They all came to an agreement. There was a clear consensus, despite Hill not wanting to get his son involved in covering up a murder. Once dismissed, the all men except Hill filtered out of the room to carry it out.

That night, River Rachel unexpectedly welcomed a dead body, which was caught and carried away by the harsh currents which fuelled the river forward.

Somewhere in block three a day later, Charlie was walking the corridors alone. In the other direction was a young girl with long, brown hair approaching a corner. He was keeping his head down and his hands in his pockets when he was walking to fast and bumped head on into the girl. She was surprised, and he apologised quickly.

"That was totally my fault. We should grab a drink, at the secret bar," the girl suggested, and now that Charlie took a step back and eyed the girl, he was very interested.

"Sure," he agreed, as there was nothing more in life he loved than free drinks and company as a bonus.

They made it to the secret bar in no time, and they sat down at a reasonably clean table at the back before the girl went up to get their drinks. Not that Charlie noticed, but the girl was a regular bar-goer as the bartender recognised her and didn't ask what block she was from. She thanked him for the drinks before bringing them back to the table.

Ten minutes had passed, and Charlie found himself pretty drunk, and was surprised the girl could hold her drink. As usual, he felt one of his headaches coming on and in the past, he would have made an excuse to leave, but the girl was nice and they'd had a couple of good conversations, so he thought he might as well stay. They'd already introduced themselves, and the girl's name was Marissa. 

"What are your general thoughts then, about things? About this place?" Marissa asked him, wanting to start up some more conversation.

"Pitiful," Charlie replied.

The girl laughed, twirling her hair around her fingers and looking at him.

"Don't listen to _your_ friends. I want to know your opinion," the girl teased.

Slowly, Charlie turned to the girl, feeling a little unimpressed. Marissa had been nothing compared to a girl he used to know - in looks, appearance, personality and just in general, really.

"Everyone has an ulterior motive, whether they're aware of it or not. Nobody is really...a nice person. We're all after different things, and that motive acts as an unconscious driving force. That driving force, in turn, rules our lives, and it can very well take them, too."

Clearly, the girl had not been expecting that level of intellect to come from such a good looking guy. He wasn't typically her type, but Marissa had a good feeling that afternoon and figured she should go for it. Just as she was about to make her move, a bearded man entered the room, his eyes fixed on a Charlie Barnes.

"Charlo."

Uncomfortably, he cleared his throat and got up as he felt everyone in the bar staring at him. Quickly, he finished his drink and excused himself from the boring girl that was sat next to him, saying he would be back when really he had no intention of stepping back into that bar. He walked outside with the man who had called him out.

"And how old was she?" Kyle asked him seriously.

Charlie rolled his eyes. To think that they had been good friends three years ago, and now he was targeting him. It seemed to Charlie that he had a personal vendetta and would not let things go.

"Old enough," Charlie answered dryly, and his reply seemed to annoy the man stood opposite him greatly.

Without being asked, Kyle moved his feet and stood in the way of the multi-instrumentalist. That triggered a heavy sigh from him as he slipped his hands deeper into his pockets. He hated being forced to make time for people he did not want to deal with, especially when they were people straight from the timeline of three years ago.

Naturally, Kyle cleared his throat to go onto his next point. Of course, he'd anticipated that Charlie would not like it.

"That leads me to say-"

And he was right to think that, because Charlie angrily stamped a foot to the ground, shooting Kyle a dirty look.

"You wouldn't understand. Nobody understood her, nobody listened to her like I did. Nobody, and in the end, I couldn't save her."

Kyle saw the painful look in Charlie's eyes, and it was enough for him to back off a little and let the man pass. He left in a fury, hoping to find his way back to his room without any interference and as quickly as possible from Bastille, and away from everyone else.

Later that week, Woody got word that Margaret had gone missing from her room. He'd heard it from the guards in his area, and the men did rely on them constantly so Woody deemed it to be quite a reliable source. When he got the chance, he shared his concerns with the rest of the group, but noticed that one man was missing.

"Where's Charlie?" Woody wondered.

The singer and the bassist immediately turned to the bearded man, who sat smack bang in the middle of the standard room with his legs crossed, looking _very guilty_. When he realised all the men were shooting him accusing looks, he shuffled around uncomfortably and put a hand over his face as if it would shield himself from the shit he was going to get thrown at him.

"We had words, but he didn't want to listen to his friends, so..." Kyle trailed off, and Dan scoffed at what he had just said because it had sounded so, so childish.

Though, it was something that Kyle was say. Dan had always found the man a little immature sometimes, especially at times where he really needed to _not be immature_. That time was at that moment, where he was refusing to make eye contact with anyone. Although the men in the room were friends given the situation they were in, they needed to try and remain friends for as long as possible if they were going to somehow get out of the damned prison as well as boosting group morale.

"It was...something more, between him and Rachel. When I spoke to him, it wasn't like...it wasn't like a game to him. It was...very real," Kyle found the subject hard to explain, since Charlie wasn't there to correct him or tell him otherwise.

None of the men were very judging once they realised how much Charlie must have been hurting since the day Rachel died. Woody had planned for the meeting to end there, until Will noticed something strange. There were a series of bright red and purple marks and bruises on the drummer's hands and knuckles. He hadn't noticed them before as Woody always wore gloves.

"What are those?" Will asked the drummer very directly, as they had always been quite close, even three years ago.

Unfortunately, Will had asked about Woody's mysterious injuries and he had to come up with the answer he'd wanted to hide from the men for the last few weeks, not until he was sure that he could tell anyone.

"Don't freak out, but for the past month and a half that we've been here, I've been deliberately doing this," Woody informed the men.

All of them seemed confused.

"Why?" Dan wanted to know, as none of what he was saying was making any actual sense to him or anyone else in the room at the time.

"For the greater good," Woody replied morbidly, and Will was ready to say something at any second.

The drummer gestured at the men to wait a and let him explain himself. Dan exchanged a nervous glance with Kyle, despite their ongoing differences.

"There's a nurse in the medical room downstairs near the canteen. He treats my bruises and stuff, but besides that, he's been telling me everything I need to know. A lot of people who have hurt themselves, they're on a lot of painkillers and drugs, so sometimes they say things," Woody explained.

The men still weren't happy with the drummer's deliberate harming of himself, though they had seen why he had done it. That left one question, and Dan was the one to bring that to the surface.

"Then what's been said? Dan inquired.

There was a silence from the drummer, and the singer felt uncomfortable because he knew he would have to mentally prepare himself for what was about to come.

"Sam's dead," Woody announced.

As if on cue, the men started to look around the room as if there was some kind of evil force lurking behind them or it had run across the room. Speaking of cues, that was Will's cue to turn on his heel and leave the room, but Woody got hold of him by his shirt and damn, did Will look guilty.

"OK. I knew. I was waiting for the right time. I'm sorry. It'll be the last time I withhold information like that again," Will apologised, and his apology was sincere enough that the group quickly moved past it.

"And what's more important is that whoever is running The Draw is trying to cover it up," Woody went onto explain, which made sense.

Essentially, the town had been run by a council that had gotten worse since Rachel Richards had died. It was corrupt.

"What's more is that the nurse that treated me went to go and get some supplies once just off area two and he heard running water," the drummer thought to mention.

It was always to better to be late than never, and that is what Charlie had often gone by his whole life as he, for once, had swallowed his pride following his argument with Kyle and arrived to the meeting. He was welcomed with brief smiles, and he suspected that everyone in the room was on drugs. Besides that, he had heard what Woody had just said.

"River Rachel?" Charlie had heard himself say.

Suddenly, the band members started to look at one another as they, horrified to realise, were still located in that town by the river.


	12. Currents You Create

 

In the early hours of Friday morning that week, the band call for the usual meeting in Will's room. Ever since Terrance had said something not too long ago which had made Will suspicious of him, he had been worried about meeting with his friends. Then again, Terrance knew the ins and outs of The Draw. Since then, he hadn't had any guards at his door or any warnings so he figured he and his friends would be fine for a while, though they needed to change their meeting place.

"OK, so where are we with stuff now?" Charlie wondered, as he had only recently become part of the group again.

Dan had been the only one with access to pens and paper since Sam had arranged a delivery for him weeks ago. He'd been hesitant to use it, though he had been writing down the successes of the band have had with gathering information. Nervously, he cleared his throat, and he had always been worried about speaking in front of people. 

"We know when the guards clock off in our area, area three. Will knows when the guards clock off in area two since he does deliveries there. We've got the secret bar, The House and now the medical room. Somehow we have the river too," Dan briefed. 

It was a lot of information for Charlie to take in, but he memorised it after ten minutes of looking through the singer's neat handwriting, compact in a spiral notebook. _He'd always loved those_ , even dating back to three years ago.

 _Everything seemed to lead back to River Rachel_ , Charlie thought. All of the bands problems, their adulthood, their friendships. Woody then went over the fact the band had performed a couple performances as The Drawsticks, and people seemed to like the music, but Kyle was sceptical and he voiced his opinion as to why.

"I think we've sucked up to regime for long enough. We should be looking at ways to revolt," Kyle suggested strongly.

There he goes again, Dan thought. The man had always been impulsive, and that was when he figured why their personalities were clashing. Nevertheless, he waited for the man to explain his point further and how it would benefit the group.

"I just think we should go back to being Bastille again. The whole of Wild World, or at least the basis of it was about a corrupt media company trying to stir shit. I know we can sure as hell indicate it in those songs, as like a personal dig," Kyle explained, and at first the start of his explanation had earned him a few weird looks.

Though, the men started to nod in agreement and they started to put together some songs they could perform in the music room next. Things were finally turning in motion, but there was one man in the room who had growing concerns for what revolt would mean for them and other people who would be bound to get involved on their cause.

"Terrance. He's my boss, trying to suss out my weaknesses. He's put his trust into me recently. I'm not saying we shouldn't do the songs, I think I need more time. The man's unpredictable," Will mentioned, which made the men reconsider what they were going to do.

Instead, they decided to put a hold on the performances and focused on something else instead, which couldn't be directly tied to them. Apparently, Kyle had talked to someone in printing a while back. They claimed that there was a printing room in area four, and he worked there, and he hated The Draw and the council. Kyle wasn't really sure what was printed there, but he suspected it was the information leaflets they received sometimes. If they wanted people to support them, they would have to spread the message.

In the space of half an hour, the band devised a plan. Kyle would put himself in contact with the printer guy and print masses of copies of anti-Draw texts. Then, Will would meet Kyle outside of the printing room and disguise them into the deliveries he would make. It was dangerous, but they were all into it.

Since Will did deliveries on Mondays in the afternoons of block 2C (and sometimes the rest of area two) that was when the men would carry out their plan. As scheduled, at lunch, Kyle prompted his guard that he wanted to go and get some food. He didn't want to take advantage of his guard again, but he let him stray from his path and straight to the printing room, where the printing guy was. They shared a short conversation before coming up with a brief, digital design. Shortly after that, Kyle had to bundle all the copies up before thanking the man for supporting their cause and meeting Will.

Will thanked Kyle and told him to hurry back to lunch. Kyle nodded and walked away as Will stuffed the majority of the papers into his jacket. However, Kyle found himself turning back. He began to worry about Terrance too. He took the papers from Will and told him he had a better idea.

"Then what are you going to do, Kyle?"

It didn't take the bearded man a long time to come up with an alternative to spreading their revolt message.

"I'm gonna make a fucking mess."

That answer in itself seemed to make Will's breathing a little slower, and he turned on his heels before telling the man to stay safe.

On his way to lunch, Kyle had to pass a staircase. The canteen didn't usually have many guards positioned in it - maybe about thirty. The staircase overlooked the whole canteen. Nobody had seen him carry any papers since they were all firmly stuffed in his pockets and under his clothes out of sight. He felt like he was straight out of a Bond film. Since there were no guards on the staircase, the top floor as Kyle had been late to lunch, with a lot of force, he slammed his hands against the light switches.

He had very little time to act when the lights turned off and a series of gasps and confused screams ran throughout the whole canteen. _Overdramatic bastards_. Luckily, Kyle knew what he was doing as he got the papers and threw them over the staircase, so they fell like a kind of messy snow on a cold day in January. 

Nobody had seen him as he made his way back into the lower floor of the canteen, with his hands in his pockets, feeling pretty proud of himself. He joined Dan and Woody downstairs and informed them of the change of plan, but that way, it couldn't be tied back to any of them. 

The men would not know how successful their attempt was, but it had been a start. All they needed to do was put doubts into people's heads. Plus, it wasn't like they had been doing anything wrong. In itself, the secret bar and The House were signs of revolt as the band suspected they weren't set up initially.

However, less than a day later, all five men received the same photocopy of a note.

_God forgive you for your sins._

The band called for a meeting the following way to discuss the note. A worried Woody suspected it had been due to the stunt the band had pulled, but Will convinced him that he was becoming increasingly paranoid. However, Charlie expressed his concerns as the band had received a similar note three years ago in the early hours of the morning the day after Rachel Richards had died. Really, the worst thing was that nobody had a clue who could be sending the notes. Of course, Kyle always wanted to do the right thing, and he suggested that he would get in contact with the printing guy to suss out where it came from, but Will was adamant that it was just too dangerous, especially with a killer on the loose.

At some point during that week, Kyle slipped into Dan's room. Lately, the man had been wanting his space, but didn't really mind when he came into his room. He was more used to being around people, other men, since his encounter with Sam. Often, the singer would have trouble sleeping, so sometimes he would pop in and watch over him to make sure he wasn't unsettled. Kyle wished he had a suitable answer for what he was doing, but he really didn't. He just wanted to make sure Dan was well, and what better way to do that when he wasn't awake to argue?

What would stop him from going to the lengths to care for the man did frequently pop up, and he tried to ignore his inner demons. How could he not be mad at the singer for not giving him an answer, after three years?

Gatherings had now been moved to Woody's room, not that he didn't mind. Dan and Kyle usually sat on the floor, whilst Will went into steal mode by standing by the door and constantly watching it. Woody was sitting on his bed, as was a tired Charlie who leaned his back against the wall near to the drummer's bed. None of them were keen on discussing the note again, but it had been on their minds.

"We need answers, and I feel like if we don't get them soon, this whole thing, this revolt that we've planned will just blow up in our faces," Charlie urged.

Kindly, the singer handed Charlie the notebook and he began to scribble down some ideas as to what the band could do to find out who had broken into the printer room, made sure they had enough time to make a design, print it, and send it to the men so easily.

"I know how that feels, I've been waiting for an answer for three years," Kyle commented rudely without thinking about the consequences.

It didn't help that Charlie chuckled as soon as he realised it was a dig at someone in the room, which earned him a slap round the head from Will. The drummer began to uncomfortably scan the room to see if someone in particular was going to react to what Kyle had just said. The atmosphere of the room was becoming cold.

"You really want to do this here?" Dan asked the synth player quite seriously, to make him aware of what he had just said, out in the open, surrounded by other people.

Clearly, Kyle did, and immaturely showed Dan that he didn't care about their dirty laundry because he shrugged his shoulders. The others had no idea what they were arguing about, but felt as if they should not intervene.

"Yeah, since you clearly didn't want to do anything three years ago," Kyle snapped at the singer, whose posture stiffened a bit at the anger to his tone.

The other men in the room sensed that the argument was going to get ugly, and through gestures, one of them decided to say something before things esculated and words were thrown around that should have never been thrown around.

"Apart from doing cocaine, anyway."

That triggered a side eye from Dan.

"Guys, we need to put the past away for now. It's dead, we need to move past it," Woody urged, surprising himself at how calm and philosophical he was coming across.

Given that, the tension in the room did seem to disappear for about half a minute until someone cleared their throat. Will rolled his eyes, only anticipating what was going to come of the two men arguing. He'd seen it first hand, a month and a half ago.

"How the hell can I move past it? Move past what?" Kyle angrily questioned the drummer, who had no idea what to say as he didn't know what he was talking about.

"Impulsive," Dan cussed the man sat next to him.

An unimpressed Kyle scoffed at the weakness in the singer's argument, as to that was all he could probably come up with - his excuse for not doing what he should have done three years ago.

"What did you just say to me-"

Unaware at how annoyed Kyle was getting, Dan risked a side glance at the man who was trying to instigate him.

"Impulsive, and that is the way you've been for a while."

Once again, the room fell silent, and the rest of the band didn't know what they had to do or say in order to resolve the tension in the room. It was at that moment where Dan thought about the pain he must have put Kyle through, so he turned to him very briefly, taking a deep breath. It was also one of those moments where he would have to swallow his pride.

"Give me time, Kyle," Dan dismissed the subject.

Though Kyle had managed to get an answer out of the singer, he immediately felt hurt and wished he hadn't cornered him in front of everyone. He beat himself up over it greatly, as Dan was not the same man he had been three years ago. None of them were, and he was stupid to think that Dan had not changed.

"Time? You've had _three years,_ " Kyle reminded the man, whose last sentence seemed ridiculously irrelevant.

However, Dan looked at Kyle for a moment. It was one of the few moments since they started talking again that Dan had stared at Kyle directly.

"Kyle, I-"

Dan's words were cut short when Woody told everyone in the room to be quiet and get down. Will was the fastest to react, who sat down on the floor immediately. The sound of footsteps echoed in the corridor, penetrating through the drummer's bedroom door. Before Dan could finally say what he had wanted to say for a long time, he could see it in Kyle's eyes.

Hate. Regret. Pain. _Did he really want to go there? Make things worse?_

So he let it be.

A couple of hours later, Charlie set out on what he thought to be a very important mission following the information Woody had presented to the group. From what Woody had told them, the nurse that had treated him had heard running water somewhere near area two. Luckily, he was native to area two so he had a pretty good idea of when the guards would be back, and he had just under ten minutes.

With his hands in his pockets, he kept his head down as he walked the corridors of area two in search for what he had left behind. Unfortunately, most of the corridors were identical and it was _very easy_ to get lost. Charlie thought to consider where he had been and where he hadn't been as he came to a halt.

And then he heard the running water. His ears took him back to that fatal night where he'd lost everything. That spurred him on as he closed his eyes, picturing the flow of the river, that alone managed to guide him to the room Woody had talked about. From the look of it, pipework framed the whole ceiling, and unstable bits too that were rocketing about in the cold breeze from the river. Charlie imagined The Draw itself to be like a dam, because the river stopped flowing to a certain point. With ease, he got closer to it, hitting his head off some pipework in the process. He cursed under his breath and told himself he would be more careful next time.

Naturally, he shut his eyes and counted to ten.

"You shouldn't be here," a voice observed, he presumed it to be a guard trying to do his job.

Nevertheless, Charlie slowly turned around, not surprised that there were two guards. He'd sensed two sets of footsteps earlier, not that it had bothered him. Well, he was no fighter, but he had a plan.

"Should you?" he dared to question the two guards, who seemed a little uneasy that he had asked that question.

They looked at one another, then back to the crazy inmate. It seemed they weren't really sure what to do.

"Don't get smart. Come here," the other guard ordered, and he was more pissed than his friend next to him.

Despite the situation, Charlie had no intention of listening to the guards. He stared at them, wondering how they would act. Surprisingly, they did act quite fast, moving toward him. However, he had the upper hand as he moved backwards, on the ledge of where the river was flowing. The guards stopped what they were doing as their eyes darted to the river, then back to the inmate.

"Don't move any further. Just come here," the first guard that had spoken to him urged, outlining the possible dangers of what could happen in the next few seconds.

The inmate thought about it for a moment, but he would get in trouble. Besides, he had left the meeting with his friends knowing full well what he wanted to do.

"You take me to whoever's running this shit, then yeah, we have a deal," Charlie promised, aware of how close he was to the river.

For a moment, the guards started to consider the inmate's offer, but it was totally against the rules and all they had learned. They reckoned they would be able to save him from any harm. And so, they advanced toward him, which triggered something in Charlie - not fear, but adrenalin.

As the guards closed in on him, he raised his right arm ever so slightly, performing a praying gesture. He thought about her everyday, her smile, her laugh, her hair. Everyday, the one thing he hoped he could wish for was to hear her voice, just for one moment again.

"May the river wash away my sins."

Just as the closest guard could make a grab for Charlie, he had already pre-anticipated his movement, and as a result, he was able to fall peacefully into the raging waters below. That moment felt as if it was in slow motion, as he fell, looking back at the guards, The Draw, only thinking of Rachel, and how much he wanted to see her face again. The currents got him, and he was caught in them, smashing against his pale skin, dragging him down, far. Before he knew it, he was caught in them, but that was okay, because he knew he was to blame.

Some time later, somewhere in The Draw, Terrance was hurriedly called to Mr Hill's main meeting room. He made it there in record time, because he just knew that something was wrong. There, he wasn't surprised to find Palmer and the other guard Hill had put his trust in. Hill gestured to the corner of the room, where all three men were stood. It seemed as if they were looking at a body. Terrance got closer, and it was a man.

"Caucasian male. Roughly five foot nine. Dark brown hair," the other loyal guard in the room observed at Mr Hill's gesture.

Terrance frowned, wondering what that had to do with him. Upon closer look, he could see the man was drowned like a rat. At that, his eyes widened and he became concerned with how the man had come to that fate. _Wait. River Rachel,_ he thought.

"From what we've heard, the guards at the scene managed to revive him. He's rather lucky, actually, because River Rachel does not forgive," Palmer informed Terrance.

Anyone outside of that room would have thought every man in that room was crazy to be talking about such a near-death event so casually.

In block 3A, meanwhile, Dan woke up from a nightmare, screaming at the top of his lungs. Kyle rushed into Dan's room to try and calm him down, and damn, did he look frightened. His hands were shaking, and Kyle put his feelings to the back of his mind as he gently placed his hands on Dan's.

"Charlie. I-I-I think he's in trouble."

"Dan...it was a nightmare..."

"NO, Kyle."

"OK, OK. I-I'll get the others."

Kyle knocked on the doors of Woody and Will, who weren't very impressed as they'd just had their meeting over an hour ago and were looking forward to some sleep, even if it was at barely three in the morning. Kyle informed them about the nightmare, and Will offered to wait in Charlie's room, despite it proving to be easier said than done in order to dodge the guards.

As Will left to go and do what he said he would do, he was stopped by a fellow deliveryman making his round when he was informed to go straight to Hill. He frowned, not knowing who the man was. Regardless, he was given directions and he made a detour there immediately.

He entered the room, surprised to see Terrance, along with an important middle-aged man who he presumed to be Hill, a younger guard and a slightly older guard beside him. Will felt uneasy.

"I've heard a lot about you, a lot I rather like. Here we have it, welcome to the inner circle," Hill announced, and Will became increasingly confused as to what was going on.

Terrance said nothing as the other two guards introduced themselves. They seemed nice enough, though Will was very confused how he could be part of the _inner circle_ without actually being a guard - Terrance, too.

"Anyway, I want your opinion. I heard you're a good judge of character."

Uneasily, Will eyed Hill and wondered what he was talking about. Will had to try very, very hard not to react as he watched Charlie enter the room in a guard's uniform. He smirked at Will.

"It's a good fit, right?" Terrance assumed, and was hinting at Will to say something very similar.

His attention was brought back, and he nodded in agreement, not having much to say since the situation was so weird. On the sly, Charlie winked at Will, and he received the message. Somehow, he had gotten himself up the ranks to benefit the team.

"Good. If you could escort him back to his room," Palmer ordered before his father could, pissing Hill off greatly.

Charlie nodded without argument, kindly escorting Will out of the room.

"He's really something," Terrance commented.

They started walking for two minutes until they were out of hearing range. Will wondered if he had killed half of The Draw's guards.

"What did you do?"

"Created some currents, Will. Watch and learn."

It was left at that, as both men made their way back to their separate blocks, wondering about the ulterior motives of the other.


	13. The Power in Charlie

 

The following morning, Dan got a surprise when he caught a familiar shadow stood outside of his door. Groaning, he rolled out of his small bed, crashing onto the floor. Regardless, he got up anyway, heading toward the door to have a good look. _Wait. He recognised the back of the guard's head._ Upon first glance, it had to be-

"Daniel. Breakfast," Charlie announced as he opened the bedroom door, smiling at him as if what was playing out was normal.

A shocked, speechless Dan said nothing as the new guard ushered him outside of his room, and he was shortly joined by Will who, by the look on his face, knew and would explain the situation to him and the rest of the band later.

Once they were in the canteen, Will explained what had happened last night. The rest of the men understood and nodded, surprised that things had progressing, scarily, in the way they wanted. It was also at that point where Will decided to give the rest of the band a little more information of Terrance, and what he looked like. For some reason, Woody could have sworn Terrance was significant to him somehow.

"Charlie's okay with the whole guard thing, but, I think he's found out something and seems a bit shaken up by it, I don't know," Will mentioned, eyeing the man stood with a bunch of other guards all around the perimeter of the canteen.

The men shared a short discussion before making their way over to the music room. Since the bassist had expressed his concerns, the band hadn't played another performance. There were some people in the room who were eyeing the men, probably expecting them to play something. In the back of the room, Kyle gave up and started warming up the piano to play a familiar tune with a happy title. The other men couldn't help but assist him with the tune, whilst Dan found the courage to open his mouth.

_Deep in a corner of the night_

_We were lying in the middle of the road_

Roughly twelve hours prior, Charlie woke up in a strange, big room with four men analysing him carefully. It had given him a shock to the system, and when he realised his clothes were wet he had remembered what stunt he pulled, and he could only think of the consequences. However, he remembered he had to stay strong if he wanted to get what he wanted.

As for the room, there was a giant wooden desk in the middle of it with a sign saying _Mr Jon Hill_ on it. He guessed that Hill was the middle-aged man with the suit on and a sharp look to his eyes. Alongside him was a reasonably young guard, an older one and a man he felt as if (in the back of his mind anyway) he should have recognised. There was something about him that made Charlie feel uneasy. His hair was dark brown, tied back in a messy bun, and it would seem that he had a nose piercing that looked irritated. Charlie figured he must have knocked it, though little did he know it flew off during a struggle earlier in the week.

"That was quite some stunt you pulled," Hill, in a way, complimented him with a smirk plastered on his face.

Charlie was very unsure how to react to that. He said nothing but made eye contact with the important looking man. His attention was focused on him, until the younger guard cleared his throat.

"We like you. We've been talking, and we would like to make you an offer," Palmer declared, using appropriate hand gestures.

Feeling surprised, Charlie sat up slightly, looking at the men and waiting for one of them to be unable to take it anymore and burst out laughing, but none of them were joking. Luckily, his stunt had paid off, working in his favour.

"We want you to become a guard. Be in our inner circle," Hill offered.

Instantly, Charlie nodded and thanked the man for the opportunity. As if they knew he would say yes, the older guard reached somewhere behind him, producing some clothes which he threw at Charlie. A confusd man, who now had a pile of clothes in his arms, observed his newfound indentity for a moment. He was unable to believe what had just happened to him, and whether he had died and he was dreaming or not.

"You are a guard, but you will be our extra set of ears...since you know the facility so well," the older guard began to say, making a reference at how he found River Rachel so easily.

Slowly, Palmer passed Charlie a set of papers which he looked at with a frown on his face, not expecting there to be a wad of paperwork tied to the new role he had been given in spite of his anti-Draw stunt. There was a list of places in The Draw with directions on how to get to them.

"As for those places, you will go to them in your spare time. You are a special guard, so you are only a guard when it suits you. Really, you're a spy, OK?" Palmer briefed the confused man.

Still feeling overwhelmed, Charlie nodded. It seemed as if the inner circle were a unique and strong bunch, and he needed to fit in with them, especially if he wanted the benefits of helping himself as well as his friends. _Plus, it earned him total bragging rights._ However, one question came to the man's mind. Being a guard when he wanted to was great, because it meant not being on duty all the time and having a curfew, but there was just _one problem._

"How will the other guards know? I mean, if I'm not in the right place at the right time or something?" Charlie asked, and it was a good question to ask considering the strange, twisted situation that he had landed himself in unintentionally.

The rest of the inner circle paused for a moment. Of course, Hill had thought about that and had been working on something for the past week. Hill had been holding it in his hand the moment Charlie had arrived in his room. With a painful expression, he looked at it and passed it to Palmer, who formed the same expression. There was some debate, and eventually the object was passed to Terrance, but even he wasn't sure whether he could stomach it. They knew they would all have to do it, but even the thought of it was painful. Admittedly, Terrance did _not_ want to perform the action either.

Charlie sat there, watching the men trying to work out what they had in store for him, but he couldn't make out what the object was. Anyway, in the meantime, he got told to go into another room and change into his uniform. In a hurry, he changed out of his standard clothes and into the uniform. There wasn't a mirror in front of him, though he reckoned he looked good. 

Minutes later, Will walked in, wondering why he had been summoned to a Mr Hill's office. Dan had never mentioned his encounter with him, so that was the first time Will had met him. He felt uneasy looking at him, like he was a vampire planning on drinking his blood. Hill mentioned how much he liked him and welcomed him into a thing called the inner circle. Terrance said nothing as the other two guards introduced themselves to Will.

Why the hell did he feel like he was joining a cult?

Nevertheless, Hill asked for his opinion on something, and was extremely shocked to see Charlie Barnes dressed head to toe in The Draw appropriate guard uniform. It made his heart race a little and he wasn't sure what to think. After Terrance had said it was a good fit, he passed Will an object on the sly. He frowned when he looked at the object.

It was like a stamp.

"We figured you'd be the one to stomach it," Terrance half-complimented Will, which he didn't really appreciate.

There was then some discussion that the new inner circle members were left out of as where the stamp would go. Hill confirmed it was most noticeable on the neck, whereas Palmer didn't like the sound and agony of that and strongly suggested it should be on the hand. Finally, they decided on the hand. Palmer felt uneasy.

"I'd prefer it if you didn't," Will warned Charlie, who was starting to freak out on what the men had been talking about.

On that note, Charlie turned around as Will grasped the object, looking at it one more time before casting the main bit of it before the fire. He figured it would be best to do it quickly. With ease, though the branding iron was hot, he immediately slammed it down on his left hand, then released it. The whole process had been in the process of five seconds, and the men had been right, as Will hadn't made a sound.

"Can I turn around now?" Charlie asked.

An annoyed Will rolled his eyes. Throughout their time together, the man had always been scared of everything. Clowns, flying, trees and bats. _How did they even align with one another, in any universe?_

"OK. Slowly," Will ordered.

Charlie did as he said, as the men were acting in the fact that they had actually seen each other and knew each other well, but were pretending for the sake of succeeding in the inner circle. Will thought turning around slowly and assessing the situation would ease Charlie's nerves, but his eyes widened when he saw the branding iron and the unhealthy, pulsing red-purple burn that was pretty much alive and breathing on Will's left hand.

"Christ, fuck no," was all Charlie said in protest.

Again, the man with the branding iron rolled his eyes and stepped towards the frightened man, who immediately took a step backward. Palmer could see what was going to happen but said nothing. Without warning, Will skilfully grabbed a hold of a wriggling, scared Charlie, held his closest hand in place and branded him. The man's scream could be heard from areas five and six, which, surprisingly through the thick walls, did wake a couple of people up.

Will performed the ritual on the rest of the men, who handled it quite well (apart from Palmer, who didn't protest but kept on requesting five minutes to prepare himself) and he and Charlie were released from Hill's room.

Out of curiosity, Will asked Charlie what the band was for and he briefly explained what had happened to him in there, and what his role was. Will understood.

Now, Charlie had the power.

For Will's safety, Charlie kept the list to himself and three days after the event, he decided to check out one of the places. One of them was known as the Hidden Garden. Charlie suspected it was similar to The House and the secret bar, where it was run by inmates who were supported by The Draw in some way since guards liked to visit those places on their breaks. As for directions, they were pretty crap. From what he read, the Hidden Garden was somewhere north off area one.

As he entered area one, he was immediately stopped by a guard who recognised he was not native to being on duty in area one, despite being in full guard uniform. Charlie frowned and questioned how he would get past the tall, muscular man when he realised he had protection. Slowly, he raised his arm and presented his still-tender burn. The man nodded slowly and let him pass.

With half an hour of getting lost down the extremely familiar looking corridors, he noticed a storage room. He stepped inside of it, surprised to see what looked like a small closet with coats and clothes. Seeing as he wanted to go undercover, he changed out of his guard clothes, hung them up and continued on his way. As he ventured inside of it, he was shocked to find a garden in front of him. There seemed to be a café embedded into it, people sat at tables enjoying what he presumed to be free cups of tea and cake. Charlie wondered how he had never come across that area before. Regardless, he stepped foot into it and was immediately welcomed (presuming people thought he was an actual guard) and given a cup of tea and a slice of cake and sat down at a table immediately.

He was there for a good ten minutes, until he heard a girl's voice.

"Is this seat taken?"

Charlie looked up at the girl. She couldn't have been any older than twenty.

"Sure. Sit down, I guess."

With delight, the girl pulled up the seat opposite him and sat down. Charlie didn't understand why the girl was staring at him so intently, nor why she would want to sit next to a randomer she didn't know. By first glance, she had big, bright blue eyes and dark brown hair. As much as he hated to admit it, she _did look nice_ and could benefit him.

He figured he would look very strange asking questions, seeing as he was a guard, so he woud have to prompt the girl somehow.

"I come here a lot. It's peaceful here, but I don't have anyone to share it with," the girl said sadly, and Charlie began to feel a little more sorry for her.

After all, anyone would be a fool to leave such a beautiful girl sitting by herself in such a beautiful garden.

"What's your name?" he asked, as he was more interested in her than he had been a couple of seconds ago.

"Zara," she answered.

When she was too preoccupied to ask his, he took that as a blessing and the conversation flowed from there. Apparently, the Hidden Garden was open everyday. Zara tried to visit (when she could get away) once a week. Charlie thought about inviting her somewhere less out in the open to talk.

"Would you go for a walk with me?"

There was no way she would reject him, and he was right to think that because she nervously swirled a strand of her around her finger before blushing.

"I'd love that."

Away from preying eyes, Zara took Charlie to an area where people often referred to it as rose corner, as there were several roses growing in the bushes around it. At first glance to the guard, the area was quite pretty, but on second glance, the roses did have their thorns.

"So, how has your time been in The Draw," Zara innocently asked, and Charlie saw no harm in answering the question with a little white lie to satisfy her.

"It's, you know, interesting. Tiring though," Charlie faked an answer, which seemed to satisfy the girl.

There were a few seconds of silence that passed, but that didn't bother the girl. Kindly, she smiled at the guard stood next to her. She'd always tried her best to talk to new people, and she figured that she was onto something with that one. _At least she hadn't sussed out he was a guard. It was a good call changing clothes,_ he thought. Charlie was unsure why she had taken an interest him, but wanted to use it to his advantage.

"Did you see what happened in the canteen some time ago? The critical posters of The Draw?" Zara wondered, just to spark up some more conversation.

For a moment, Charlie was about to go on a rant, but he suddenly remembered he wasn't dressed as a guard, meaning that he did not have to act like one.

"I saw them. They were very persuasive, and I have to give credit where it's due," Charlie agreed with the messages plastered all across those brilliantly designed posters he and his friends had come up with.

Surprisingly, Zara smiled at him and nodded. Next, she did a really cute thing by brushing her hair back with her fingers, and her eyes seemed to scrunch up a little but he could still see that amazing blueness coming from them.

"To keep us here to cover our own backs, of course. Word is going around the posters sparked up a club. It runs everyday at noon. I've been there, and it's in block 4C."

"Then I'll have to be there tomorrow."

Again, the girl smiled at him and said it was nice seeing him. Shortly after that, she left the rose corner, exiting the Hidden Garden.

Anyway, near the canteen was The Draw's medical room. It was very easy for anyone to access. A shaggy-haired man was making his way there with that time, a slightly fractured wrist. The room wasn't very busy, given it being three in the afternoon. However, he got a surprised when he was treated by a different nurse. It was a woman in her fifties with a big smile and blonde hair. Woody sat down, waiting to be treated. He thought it was smart not to ask any questions. Whilst he was there, he caught wind of something.

"...she disappeared days ago. That Margret girl. I spoke to her a couple of times."

Come to think of it, Margaret and been on the drummer's mind for a while, because he hadn't seen her in the canteen for the past two weeks. He was worried that like his nurse, she had disappeared too.

Meanwhile, Dan is notified by his guard, who happened to be Charlie, that Hill wanted to see him. The singer was vaguely familiar with the man, and nodded slowly, wondering what the meeting could be about. As Charlie escorted him to the man, no conversation passed between them. Though, out of the corner of his eye, he could see Dan's left hand shaking uncontrollably as they approached Hill's room.

"It'll be alright. Calm down," Charlie tried to sympathise with the man, as he had always been nervous about everything.

Nothing more was said when Charlie opened the door, and there sat Mr Hill, who seemed very calm sat opposite his desk. Charlie showed Dan to his seat and he sat down. Dan felt it was a very awkward setting as his friend left him to go and preform his duties.

"Good afternoon, Mr Smith. You're probably wondering why I've called you here, and I didn't want to alarm you, though I'm sure you know by now that your previous guard, Sam, has sadly passed away. Heart attack. Nobody could have saved him," Hill thought to inform the man, and he observed him shuffling around uncomfortably in his seat.

Jon Hill hadn't been expecting silence from Dan, so he himself had to think of something else to say to get him over the shock.

"Here, at The Draw, we will try to support you in anyway way we can. There are people you can talk to here at anytime," Hill mentioned.

Though, that was irrelevant to the singer because he was very happy in regards to the young guard's death as that meant he no longer had to see him anymore. He'd known before Mr Hill told him, and he still felt the same way. 

A mistake was made when Hill thought nothing of reaching an arm to touch the man, and the singer tensed up greatly, and very noticeably at that. Dan pulled his body far away from the older man, jerking it backward and breathing heavily. Hill noticed the extremity of his reaction and almost felt a tiny bit of real emotion, though that was shortly diminished when he drew his hand back.

"S-Sorry. I-I don't r-really like to be touched," Dan confirmed, hoping that the man sat opposite him would let that one pass.

Hill nodded and said that he could leave and come back any time he wanted, though the man crept the singer out so he left very quickly.

Meanwhile, late that night, Charlie decided to check out another area he hadn't been to and asked Kyle for help, and he beamed up at the opportunity to step into that place again. In the late night, the pair managed to avoid the presence of guards by following a different route. They stepped into The House, automatically on arrival being pounded by music with a lot of bass and rhythm.

As they walked in, Charlie immediately noticed how a lot of people were making eyes at Kyle. Those people were men, and Charlie felt confused for a moment when they went up into the bar and got some shots. He'd been watching his friend for the past fifteen minutes and realised that in his drunken state, he was making eyes at another man across the bar. Charlie thought he would say nothing and let him have his fun.

In the meantime, a man in his late thirties came up to the bar and ordered an orange juice. He looked at Charlie strangely, probably because he was a guard.

"What brings you here?" the man wondered, and his hair came down to his back.

Charlie shrugged, as he didn't really know himself. Though he had been told to check out several places, he wasn't sure what the hell he was meant to be looking for and what would be done with the information.

"Free drinks," he replied, and it was a good answer because any normal person would have said that to a stranger.

The man didn't seem drunk, which would be a good sign if he did tell the guard anything he could use.

"Been in the town for a while, horrified with the murder of that girl. Wanted to move, but my wife and I didn't save, so we had to stay there."

"That's terrible."

He cleared his throat and downed the rest of his orange juice, much to Charlie's dismay as he prepared to speak more.

"They say River Rachel takes sinners. Since that girl was found there, it has no mercy for anyone that comes across it. You, young man, would be lucky to get out if you were caught in the currents."

For a brief moment, the guard took some time to himself as a moment of reflection. Then, he frowned. _Hadn't he survived the wraths of River Rachel?_ By the time he could challenge the man, he had disappeared into the life of the strip club.

After that, Charlie felt a little creeped out and told a drunken, protesting Kyle that he wanted to leave. Eventually, he managed to get him to agree. As the men made their way out of the noisy venue, they encountered a man standing outside of it, dressed head to toe in appropriate guard uniform.

The identity of the man made the two men take a double-take. 

"Mark," Kyle said, and the seeing the man after many years had sobered him up in the space of just a few seconds.

Slowly, the man's eyes widened and he sighed in relief at the sight of the two familiar men. He had been their producer, during a time of their prosperity.

"The fuck are you doing here? Dressed like that?" Charlie questioned the man.

"I could ask you the same question," Mark deflected the insult, and the newly branded inner circle member felt a little stupid.

There was a silence that passed until one of them plucked up the courage to say something or ask another question.

"I've been tracking you guys for some time now. I wanted to warn you as soon as I found out, because I can't trust no-one in this shithole. Terrance is a guard when he wants to be, and he's a bounty hunter."

Charlie's face dropped.

"What?"

At that point, Kyle was confused and out of the conversation.

"Terrance takes innocents, and as for now, I have no idea where they go."

Suddenly, the band found themselves with a new problem on their hands.


	14. I Can See a Change

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey, just to let you know I do flashback chapters in this fanfic and this is one. (chapter 10, chapter 4)  
> comment if you're confused and stuff (if it isn't obvious its a flashback chapter even though I do try to make it obvious, oops)  
> the flashbacks will usually be 3 years ago as mentioned briefly in the fanfic summary or even long before that  
> just so you can put together the pieces before I can, lmao
> 
> anyway thanks if you are reading this trash ;)  
> and thanks even more if you're giving it kudos, as I don't get many and appreciate every one I get, as I do lose motivation as I have a lot going on rn  
> thanks loves

 

It was three years ago some day in early August, when Kyle was minding his own business somewhere in the town by the river. He happened to be walking through the woods in broad daylight (as he was too chicken to be roaming the woods at night) in order to clear his head a little bit. Human worries were on his mind, as well as one person in particular and an unusually upbeat Charlie Barnes. His hands were deep into his pockets thinking about how he could find solutions for the things going on in his life. He'd always been the joker of the band, and he had to keep up his reputation, especially in interviews.

Kyle had always been the one to carry everyone through everything, even to the present day in The Draw, even against the currents of River Rachel.

Anyway, the first time had been right there, in those woods. Something had made the bearded man come to a halt. In his lifetime, he had heard and seen a lot of things that had surprised him, but what was presented before him, a couple of metres away had been the most shocking of them all.

That sight was and older man with a younger girl. They were talking, and he couldn't hear what was being said in the distance, but seeing the pair had been enough. Charlie had clearly been getting himself into trouble as he had chosen to get involved with Rachel Richards. Biting his tongue back, the bearded man turned on his heel and walked in the opposite direction, hoping never to have to witness that again. Sure, they may have been just talking, but Kyle _did not want to walk in on anything more._

As if the first sighting hadn't been bad enough, three days later, Kyle happened to be running an errand at the local grocery store when he saw the pair again. It was on the confectionary isle where he saw a lonely, innocent looking teenage girl with a head full of long, blonde hair seem hesitant on what sweets to get. Then, an older man in the distance happened to be walking down the same isle and bumped into the girl, knocking the bags of sweets out of her hands. In disgust, Kyle watched as they had expertly planned excuses to speak to each other out in the open, and it was terrifying.

So terrifying and horribly disgusting that he left his milk in the store in anger, stamping his way back home, unable to believe that such a good friend could let himself stoop so low.

He could see a change in Charlie.

Just as Kyle had expected, the third time came around much sooner than he initially predicted from the first time. Roughly a week after the second sighting, Kyle found himself in the local park that was just by the woods. When the band needed inspiration, he always went there to gather some ideas from the calm setting and the gentle flow of the river in front of him. Although Dan was the main songwriter, the other band members loved to pipe in with new ideas - everything was fair in Bastille.

However, his normal thought process was interrupted by the sounds of laughter. He suspected it was from a child, and he was right. Some distance away from him by the river were Rachel and Charlie. The older man was playfully splashing her and she was giggling and holding her dress up above her ankles slightly in a bid not to get wet. That, in itself killed Kyle's mood instantly, so he got up and left the park immediately.

That night in particular, he found himself walking around the town a lot more than usual because of what he had just seen. _It wasn't like he could confront Charlie about it, he knew how the man would react and he would most likely make more appearances with the girl just to spite him and anyone else he told._ From what he had seen, there hadn't been anything romantic going on, so he hoped - he prayed he was seeing her socially.

He took a detour and found himself in front of Dan's house. Dan had always been kind to him, and they'd always been quite close, though he was worried that he wouldn't be happy with him showing up at his doorstep at midnight, especially knowing that he would be up and awake at that time. Kyle's hand hesitated to ring the doorbell.

Before he could make a decision, the door to Dan's flat opened and he smiled at his bandmate straight away, welcoming him in mentioning that he'd seen him outside. Slowly, Kyle followed the man inside.

"You've come here at this time, there must be something on your mind," Dan suspected, and he was right to have his suspicions because Kyle had been looking very tired lately.

As well as Charlie often being late for practises for the next upcoming gig in two months. Nobody had really pulled him up on that, either. Whilst the bearded man tried to come up with an answer, he watched the older man in front of him frantically rush about with a giant cup of coffee in his hands (which he'd often cussed Dan about at, especially at night) when he lost his balance.

All of a sudden, the blue-eyed man found himself stumbling into Kyle, and the coffee splattered all over the keyboard player's white shirt he'd bought less than a month ago. In response, Kyle groaned in pain from the heat now radiating from his chest. He was lucky, because the singer had made the cup over ten minutes ago. 

"Oh fuck! I'm so sorry! Fuck!" the singer cursed, apologising through heavy sighs as he tried to look for a solution to the accident.

Quickly, Dan rushed into the kitchen to get a cloth and started to dab at Kyle, whose body seemed to relax at the closeness of the singer touching him, his fingers slipping from the cloth and touching his chest.  It was a rare occurrence, and Kyle hated it when he got worked up over it. Eventually, Kyle decided to say something.

"It's okay, Dan. I didn't really like the shirt anyway," he admitted honestly, and to his relief for his heart rate, the man stopped dabbing at his shirt.

Dan apologised one more time before Kyle saying that it was okay, and it was just an accident before he went back into the kitchen to dispose of the cloth temporarily before appearing in front of him again. He stared Kyle down for a moment, who as a result formed an uncomfortable frown as a result. What he didn't know was that the singer's eyes were firmly fixed on his soaked, coffee-stained shirt, wondering-

"You're gonna have to take that off, you know. It's gonna be damp, and probably smell," Dan advised, in his friend's best interests and equivocally his own.

The bearded man winced, wondering if it would be a good idea. His heart rate increased rapidly as Dan awkwardly watched him peel the damp, newly coffee-coloured shirt off of his thin frame. Dan couldn't help but stare, seeing as his friend had been right in front of him. Kyle felt awkwardly exposed as Dan took his shirt, briefly using the exchange as an excuse to look at his friend's body once more before fetching him a suitable change of clothing.

Out of nowhere, Kyle was thrown a shirt which he caught. Thanking his friend, he slipped it on and hoped his time with the singer wouldn't get any more awkward.

"Listen, it's probably best if you stay here anyway. This might be a small town, but if you just go back home now, something might happen to you."

Kyle blinked at the singer and what he was suggesting would happen. _Not only had he made Dan trip and fall into him, having to do him a favour lending him one of his shirts, he had now become a charity case. Now that was too embarrassing, even for him._ In defence, the bearded man put his hands up to protest, hoping the singer would back down.

"I shouldn't."

His tone was firm, but it didn't hurt Dan, nor make him back down _one bit_. He was determined to do his friend a favour, so he stared at him. It was something he did often with his bandmate to get him to agree with things. The staring contest thing never worked with Woody, Will or Charlie, but he _knew_ it weakened the keyboard player. Clearly, he was onto something as Kyle had to resist looking away from those mesmerising blue eyes. In frustration, he grunted.

"OK. Fine, if it pleases you."

Unbeknownst to Kyle, it did please Dan.

They awoke on the sofa in the morning after watching a movie and Dan falling asleep halfway through it despite drinking a shit ton of coffee throughout the day. Kyle panicked at first, but realised he was in Dan's presence and calmed down, remembering what the fool had made him agree to the night before.

He was surprised to find his hands linked with Dan's, and wondered how that had came to be.

\----

At nine o'clock that morning, a shaggy-haired man was walking along, near to the riverbank in the town when someone else was at the same time. It was a tall man in a leather jacket with a nose ring and his hair tied back in a bun. The other man started to slow down, and Woody could see that he wanted something so he stopped to find out what it was. The stranger asked the time, and Woody clocked his eyes as he gave it to him.

There was something dead about them.

\---

Mark Crew was up to no good that evening, because he cancelled meeting Dan and went to the local pub in the town by the river instead. He didn't really care that everyone in the town would have seen him there so he wouldn't be able to deny the accusations, but he just wanted to let off some steam. Bastille had an upcoming gig soon, and one of the tracks was giving him a really hard time. That was what he was meant to discuss with Dan, but he honestly couldn't be bothered. The only thing he cared about that night was getting drunk. _Hey, there were some nights when one did not want to be a producer for a rising Indie band sometime._

His wishes were fulfilled as the money from his wallet rapidly decreased and he was laughing at every stranger's jokes that were thrown his way, as well as strangely flirting with the bartender despite being fully straight.

Unexpectedly, there was a stranger who hadn't told the producer any jokes that had sat next to him. The stranger looked different from all the others, as he had a hipster look about him. A nose ring that shone brightly in the light, and long, tied back dark brown hair. From observing him, he had quite a bit to drink.

"Do you think this town will change?" Mark randomly asked the stranger, and although he was well over the limit his speech didn't show it.

Though, the stranger knew what a drunk stranger sounded like, and a sober one didn't ask weird, philosophical questions.

"Anyone and anything is capable of change, it just takes something big to induce that change," the stranger mysteriously replied, which got Mark thinking about the town's future and whether he wanted to be in it.

Since he had been the only stranger who had managed to have good conversation with him, Mark saw no harm in keeping up that conversation with him. Plus, he looked _awfully familiar._

"I'm Mark, I also happen to be part of the town's council. It's nothing special, just wanted to get involved in the local community a bit more instead of being a bystander," the drunken man introduced himself, and was _very lucky_ not to have given the man his full name as that would have been used against him three years into the future.

Of course, the stranger paused before introducing himself to the man sat next to him sprawled out all over the bar. _He wouldn't see the man again, he thought._

"I'm Terrance Howard. Nice to meet you," the guy introduced himself also.

Their conversation went on from there, floating into the winds of the river located just outside of the pub.

\----

In fact, the reason why the man had looked _so_ familiar to Mark was that, to the _present day_ (in The Draw) he remembered meeting him once before. It had been a good few years ago, perhaps six, before the band managed to pick up Charlie and Mark had just started out being the band's producer.

It had been just before one of the band's first handful of gigs in the town, and they had to be given a health and safety briefing before going on stage. Terrance had given them the briefing, as he was good at security and good at his job. At the time, Kyle had remembered that being the third time he'd found another man slightly attractive. Terrance had shorter hair then, and a more upbeat attitude to life.

\---

Over on the north side of the town by the river, a boy aged sixteen with dirty blonde hair and emotionless brown eyes shut himself in his room, frantically searching for something he couldn't find. He figured he wouldn't remember, and he didn't have enough time left, he kept telling himself. Instead of his first plan, he planned on grabbing any kind of notebooks or papers he could and he continually wrote notes on them, whatever he could, whatever he thought would aid him.

Meanwhile, his father stood near the wall of his room, worried at hearing his son's groans and frustrated sighs, wondering if he was having a mental breakdown. He'd been doing that for the last two weeks. Of course, he'd tried his best to bait his son out of his room, but he was not having it.

In an attempt for sanity, a blonde haired girl with beautiful green eyes came by the house and to the boy's room. She greeted the fathering accordingly, eyeing him for a minute longer than she should have (not that he noticed) before slipping into the boy's room. He'd left it unlocked but nobody in the house wanted to disturb him.

As soon as the girl stepped foot in the room, she almost regretted it straight away. There were scribbled up notes everywhere, torn pieces of paper, broken glass and overturned furniture in every space in the room apart from where she was standing. Her heart was beating wildly as she observed the sixteen year old in front of her, his right arm writing away as he chanted out random words and phrases. _How could it have gotten worse?_

"Palmer, you need help. Let your father get you help," Rachel mentioned firmly, and she didn't care what abuse she was going to get for it as she had cared for him before and wasn't about to run away from doing it again.

All of a sudden, he stopped writing whatever he was writing. He didn't even face her, sat in his computer chair lifeless, not having eaten for four days.

"Help, Rach? This is the only thing that's keeping me insane," Palmer protested, and a silence fell in his room.

That was the most human interaction he'd had in a few weeks, and Rachel figured that even being there was pushing it - pushing her chances of breaking through the boy's mental state. However, she dared to push things further as she dared to pick up one of the papers scattered across the bedroom floor. One of them read: _River. River, water. Town._ Rachel frowned as she picked up another one. She could see a change in him, and it scared her.

_**God forgive you for your sins** _

She was horrified to discover duplicates of the same note. Slowly, she bid him farewell and good health and she walked out of his room and went on her way, slipping the note into her pocket.


	15. Miles From Way Back When

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry this was short (1993 words) mine are usually 3000 words  
> it's short bc I've been really busy lately and I wanted to stay committed  
> also writing a youtuber fanfiction with my obsession with markiplier lately (oops) it's not up, though  
> thanks if you are reading my trash ;)

 

In another early morning meeting, the band members were all tired. Charlie shared useful information in regards to the places he had been going to, especially the revolt meetings. The band was still deciding whether to attend. Of course, it was too dangerous for Will and Charlie, not to mention possibly Dan as he'd seen Mr Hill before. Instead, Woody offered to go. Charlie also shared the information that he and Kyle had run into Mark, who had warned them of Terrance. Dan had a risky but dangerous idea.

"Hill, he said I could see him anytime, and stay in a separate block. I could do that," Dan offered, and Kyle's nose suddenly perked up as he smelled trouble.

There was a pause, before all of the band members except the keyboard player nodded in unison. Then, something else followed.

"I can't let you do that," Kyle protested.

Then, there was an awkward silence that filled the room as nobody was keen to argue with him. Dan said nothing and shrunk back into his seating position, feeling defeated by his friend's sudden argument.

"I'm a grown man," Dan dared to argue, feeling a newfound confidence from within somewhere which he hadn't felt before.

Though, that fact wasn't enough for Kyle who still worried about the singer's safety. He had felt extremely bad for not being the one to be there for him when Sam had savagely attacked him that night. _He should have known that was going to happen, and he should have been there to protect him when he needed it the most. Not being there had been one of the mistakes he would regret for the rest of his life, having to see Dan so broken._

"You weren't three years ago, and you definitely aren't now," Kyle warned the singer not to argue with him, because honestly, he was not in the mood for an argument given all the crazy things that had happened to them since they'd crossed paths again.

The room felt the hit of silence for a few seconds until a man's breathing could be heard on the other side of the room. There was no way the singer was going to take that dig and let things lie. He himself wasn't an argumentative person, but when it came to Kyle, it was like they brought something evil out in each other, the demons within.

"You say that as if you know me," Dan said in passing, and that hurt the bearded man a little, though it was nothing he couldn't handle.

Kyle debated for a moment whether he really wanted to dig up the past with Dan. The man had been through a lot, be he had too - they all had, and he was selfish to think that he was the only one dealing with things. Right?

"I do know you, more than you know yourself."

Kyle's words rang throughout the room, and Woody, Charlie and Will looked at each other, sensing the connotations of the situation but choosing not to comment on it. They figured they would leave fate to do that, as they had no part or right to butt into other people's business, friends or not.

Out of the heat of the argument and due to his own anxieties, Dan, without consulting the group first, rose from his seat immediately and left the room, slamming the door. Kyle's facial expression was stone cold, and did not change, not until he heard the sound of Dan slumping onto his bed in the next room. A stressed Kyle briefly ran his hands through his hair, breathing heavily. He apologised for making things awkward before leaving shortly after.

However, just as he was about to go into his room, he felt an arm grab onto him. A nervous Kyle looked to see who it was, and he was thankful that it was Charlie, who had followed him out of Will's room.

"I'm going to say this once, if you want something, you should go for it," Charlie prompted the bearded man very early in the morning.

Kyle felt confused as to what the man had been referring to, and stopped for a moment to think and to let his brain catch up.

"And you should never let it go," Charlie urged strongly.

He nodded in response, going back to his room and re-thinking the whole mess that had started with Dan. He tried to pinpoint when and where it had started, and how he could work on fixing it before things got too much.

How could he never let something go that had caused him so much worry, so many sleepless nights over the years?

Later that morning, at about nine, words are passed round area three that eventually reach Charlie and Will. Word had it that Hill wanted them for something. The men did themselves a little prayer as they left area three, as knowing Hill, it could be about anything - they just hoped he hadn't discovered their secret revolutionary activities they'd been carrying out behind his back.

Minutes later, they make it to Hill's office. They knock on the door, and the middle-aged guard answered it, pulling it open and welcoming them inside with a stiff expression. Will was concerned that the guard never smiled. _Well, he wasn't in The Draw to worry about him. He had to worry about getting the hell out of there._ Palmer was there too, as well as Hill himself and Terrance.

Were they in trouble?

Clearly not, because the atmosphere was very relaxed. For starters, Hill was sat comfortably at his desk doing nothing except playing with a stress ball, which Charlie thought would have meant bad things for him and his friend, but he was very relaxed. Palmer was stood in the far right corner of the room, staying very silent with his hands together and his feet impatiently tapping at the floor. It seemed as if he was waiting for a big moment to come, and Will worried what that would be. Meanwhile, the middle-aged guard was sat opposite Hill, his inner circle burn visible on his wrist. They had all been branded in slightly different places, though it still had the same meaning.

Power. Strength, and closeness.

"Just last night, a body washed up along River Rachel. Poor soul didn't survive. We wanted you to identify him, because we sure as hell can't," the middle-aged guard explained, getting up from his seat.

Palmer assisted him by wheeling out a body of some sort in a black bag. The smell of damp hit Charlie first, who feared the worst. Neither of the men were particularly looking forward to viewing a dead body, though it was for the inner circle, and they had to man up and face the consequences. Slowly, Palmer unzipped the body bag and stepped in front of the man so they couldn't identify the man clearly.

"It's not appealing," Palmer warned them, before stepping to the side as gestured by his father, for the man was squeamish.

Cautiously, the two men went over to the body, and Will was the first to see it. At first, he didn't recognise the man in the body bag, but he remembered. Mostly, he remembered him holding a camera and following the band around everywhere and laughing at them. Woody always thought it was weird, being watched all of the time, so he would always steer clear of him, though now he was gone. The man's face wasn't the same, sodden by water and eaten away by nature. In shock, Will put a hand over his mouth and retreated to the other side of the room, breathing heavily. He'd seen Dan have a panic attack once before, but he really didn't want to have one in front of strangers.

At Will's reaction, Charlie was hesitant to see the body, but once he did, he turned very pale as he recognised the man instantly too, certainly not looking the way he had before, three years ago. Since viewing a dead body, Charlie felt the need to sit down and take the death in a little, hoping it would pass over him like a winter's breeze.

Once Will recovered from the shock, his eyes were on Charlie, who, to him, seemed very guilty at that moment in time. Charlie saw that, and he didn't like the look on his friend's face.

Palmer asked them who the man was, and Will replied it was Tom, though he did not give them any information on how they knew him. **** ~~~~After that, they left to go back to Will's standard sized room.

"Please tell me your hand wasn't in this."

Charlie hesitated for a moment. That hesitation was enough for Will, who had linked the man's death to something he had told the ban not so long ago. _Had he been lying? Had he lied to the police that night?_

"God no. Christ, don't think like this."

"How can I trust you?"

"Listen. I didn't ask to walk into your life again."

Silence passed. He needed to have that conversation with Charlie, or he would fear the worst from him. In a desperate attempt to turn things around, Charlie stood up and eyed Will, hoping that by some miracle, he would believe him somehow.

"Did you trust me three years ago?"

At Will's lack of a reply, Charlie prepared himself. _They were miles from way back when._

"God. You didn't," Charlie realised, feeling more and more uncomfortable as the seconds passed by seeing as he was fighting a losing battle.

"Because you are the SAME person you were back then, and that fucking scares me!" Will shouted at the top of his voice, which made Charlie a little uncomfortable with how angry he was at him, as they had had their fair share of differences in the past.

Meanwhile, in Dan's room despite Kyle's annoyance with Dan, he still continued to visit him to make sure he was okay. No matter how angry or bitter he felt towards the man, he would always be sure to be by his side. Kyle couldn't bear the thought of leaving him alone and exposed to the wrongs of the world again, especially having recently heard from Will that Tom had sadly passed away, making Charlie's alibi for that night seem like a thing of fairy tales.

However, Charlie had had enough of Will accusing him of things he hadn't done, so he decided to give the man a dose of his own medicine. In Will's small room, Charlie stood by the door, staring him down if he even thought about leaving to let off some steam.

"What about some of the things you didn't tell the police that night?"

That got Will's attention instantly.

"Don't. That's irrelevant."

"How you swore you heard her scream."

"Don't do this."

Suddenly, he was back there that night, reliving that moment that Charlie so desperately wanted him to remember. He decided enough was enough, and left the argument at that before forcing his way out of his own room to let off some steam.

A group meeting was called in the early hours of the following day. There would have been a hostile atmosphere between Charlie and Will, though both men were playing it cool. Kyle already knew of the events that had unfolded between the two, but saw it fit not to say anything as it wasn't any of his business. Kyle suggested a lot of ideas that meeting that the band saw as useful.

During the meeting was when things changed, as Dan worked up the courage to extend his arm and reach out to touch Kyle's shoulder. Suddenly, the bearded man stopped talking and looked shocked at what the singer had done. Dan himself was unsure why everyone in the room had a look of disbelief on their faces.

"You touched me," Kyle observed, his eyes still wide as he looked back at the singer's hand firmly placed on his shoulder, unmoving.

Dan smiled, resembling a familiar glory.

"Yeah, I did," he replied casually.

And that was the first time he had touched someone else, connected physically with another person since what had happened with Sam.


	16. Be The One

 

Terrance stood opposite the two new inner circle members. He'd been tracking them for a while, and he knew one piece of information he'd kept to himself. It wasn't important, and he didn't want anyone to know for the time being. No, it wasn't like he was using the two new members, not at all. After all, he was known for doing crazy things and acting on gut feelings. That was how he had lived most of his life, and he wasn't prepared to change. Not for Hill, not for anyone.

Anyway, he observed the men. There was one thing that he wanted them to do, which he was sure they would do. Well, he didn't know them that well, but he wouldn't have suggested them to be in the inner circle if they weren't guaranteed to be loyal - and if they weren't being loyal, they were covering their tracks very well.

"There's been a rise of anti-Draw groups. I want you to break them up, do whatever. I don't want anyone's safety at risk here," Terrance instructed the men to do, and observed their facial expressions closely.

They were as still as stone, which meant they were willing to do what he said. With that, they nodded before walking out of the meeting room.

Upon Terrance's request, they waited an hour because they had a feeling Terrance would be tracking them. They were right to assume that, so they went their separate ways, back to their separate blocks. Once Terrance's paranoia had passed, he went back to the meeting room, knowing that he could trust the men.

The men met up at a later date in the same day, where Charlie finally told Will about the list he had been given. Will had calmed down since their argument following the threat the other man was holding over his head, though they would argue about that later. They headed where Zara had told Charlie where one of the revolutionary groups were, and the men were happy to know that their stunt they pulled some time ago had had an effect on the minds of people in The Draw.

People were showing resistance, and that had been exactly what they wanted.

As they walked into the revolutionary group, they were greeted by friendly faces and both men and women giving them handshakes. They were very riled up and passionate in what they were talking about. In the group was Zara, who cosied up to Charlie with a big smile on his face. Will was wary of that, though she seemed nice enough.

After they'd found out what they needed to know, Will was going to ask if he and Charlie could leave, though Charlie's mouth was plastered onto the younger girl's. At that, Will rolled his eyes and figured there would be nothing stopping his friend from liking them so young, so he made his way back to his block by himself.

 Little did Will know that Charlie found himself inside the girl's room as soon as Will had stepped into his own.

The following day, Will and Charlie arranged to go to the same revolutionary group, and now they had more information about where smaller ones were located, they knew what they needed to do. As usual, they always made sure that they weren't being followed. Will knew that he and his friends needed better ways of communicating, though he would find that out for them later. Calmly, dressed in their guard uniforms, they walked into the revolutionary group.

All the cheers and laughter were sucked out of the room as soon as a stone-faced Will and Charlie stood in the room in full guard uniform with their hands held together, assessing the situation. A shocked Zara stood in the corner, feeling betrayed by Charlie. Will stood by the door and he gestured for Charlie to say what they planned.

"Listen, some others and I, we printed those posters you saw. We have ties to those running this place, and we want to join you," Charlie proposed, and they realised it was a big risk what they were doing.

Everyone in the room started to murmur and whisper whether they should trust the young guard stood in front of them. It went on for about two minutes, before Zara stepped out of the crowd despite protests from others. Charlie locked eyes with her for a moment, and they were a beautiful shade of blue.

"Prove your worth!" a random member of the crowd shouted, and Zara didn't like that at all, as she tried to find out who it was.

Nervously, Charlie looked at Will as a bead of perspiration ran down the side of his forehead. Nervously, he took the pocket knife he'd received in a delivery a few days ago (which he had told nobody about) and held it in his hands. It triggered a few gasps. How he didn't managed to make the pocket knife shake was beyond him as he ran it across his palm, forming an X. It was a deep cut, too, and he held up his bloodied hand to the whole crowd.

Reluctantly, Will did the same. He hoped the shedding of blood would symbolise that they were being serious. More murmurs arose, and people seemed to be in agreement that they should give the two guards a chance. Though, Zara was curious.

"Why are you opposing The Draw regime?" she asked curiously, which was a good question as everyone else in the room had been thinking the same thing.

Again, Charlie looked back at Will. Will indicated that he could say anything he wanted to and it wouldn't effect their plan, so he went by his gut.

"For this damned council and the things they're covering up, it's been going on too long," Charlie declared, raising some cheers and fans in the room.

Will added his two pence here and there, making sure people were aware he was a part of the revolutionary movement, too. Things seemed to have been a success, and the pair reported it back to the group later that day.

Anyway, Dan had noticed, for the past day, he'd been feeling unusually sleepy. He figured it was because of his poor eating habits, and Will moaned at him for not eating properly. At lunch, he tried to eat and drink more water. His friends had been surprised he'd managed to finish a whole plate of pastries, though Dan was very annoyed to still feel tired and dreary. In shame, he sulked off to his bed, drinking the glass of water by his bed before falling asleep in the daytime again.

Unexpectedly, the same thing occurred to Dan the next day. Of course, he'd tried sleeping in, though Kyle's guard had been in a bad mood that morning and decided against that, prompting him to go down to breakfast and get something to eat. The band morale that Thursday was decent, as they'd spent just over two months in The Draw, and they knew what to expect. However, Dan wondered what he was doing wrong.

As he got back to his room, he took a massive gulp from the glass of water by his bed, drifting back into a peaceful sleep in the daytime. 

An alarmed Dan woke up what he thought was a couple of hours later, but it was actually the next day. It wasn't unusual for a person to sleep in on a Friday, but Dan began to worry that there was something wrong with him. Later, he thought, he would get himself down to the medical room downstairs and discuss his sleeping patterns with a nurse. _If only he could get his hands on something that would keep him awake - like a cup of coffee._

Unfortunately, the singer didn't make it to the medical room, as he'd fallen asleep again and woken up on the Saturday, feeling very annoyed with himself. As soon as he'd woken up, he got out of bed, feeling a bit weak in the knees. Kyle's guard sensed his movement and came into the room, looking at him strangely.

"Are you alright? You don't look too good."

Just as the singer had been about to answer, he felt the world come at him at once, from all directions and angles, ripping him apart as he fell. He was surprised that his fall was cushioned by a pair of arms. As much as he wanted to regain consciousness, it wasn't happening. _That was it,_ Dan thought. _There was no fighting against the blackness, the corrupt council, the currents of River Rachel, life, death._

Immediately, Dan was taken to Mr Hill's office by another guard's instructions. With the help of the middle aged guard and Palmer, they managed to prop the tall, skinny man up on a lounge chair. Hill mentioned that he was very out of it, and didn't want anyone to wake him, nor talk about what they had planned.

A confused Dan woke up alarmed in a room that wasn't his own. He recognised it to be the room that Mr Hill had called him to before. His head rose slowly, observing Mr Hill, a young man he presumed to be his son, a middle aged guard and the man he presumed to be Terrance.

Suddenly, the singer felt very uncomfortable. He clearly hadn't made his way to Mr Hill's office himself.

"No need to look alarmed, we just wanted to see how you were," Hill commented, and his voice seemed to boom off all the walls in his large office.

Without making it too obvious, Dan scanned the room and looked at the three other men. The blond one was clearly the youngest, he couldn't have been any more than eighteen or nineteen. He tried not to look at Terrance too much because of what Will had warned him about. As for the middle aged man, he was fine. Dan reckoned he couldn't take him on in a fight, though.

"What do you want?" Dan just decided to ask, as he wasn't interested in playing the whole cat and mouse game for half an hour, at most.

It had been a direct question, though it had been the right question to ask in the singer's situation, as he watched the men eye each other for who would say what. Terrance slowly walked up to the blue-eyed man, pulling up a chair opposite him. Without thinking, he reached out to calm the man down, though in his fight or flight response, Dan arched his body away from the threatening man quite noticeably.

Though Terrance didn't know the singer very well, he withdrew his hand, feeling a little hurt, as if he'd pushed a little kid over or something. He saw the fear in his eyes.

"I-I don't like being touched, please don't touch me," the singer warned, and it was fair enough of him to say that, as the man quietly apologised.

"I just want to know about Will," Terrance mentioned.

At that, the singer was very careful not to show too much of a reaction, despite how frightening the man sat opposite came across. Though, Dan was a smart man, and he knew that there was a something that Terrance wasn't telling him. He knew _exactly_ what that was.

"I know what you're trying to do."

"What am I trying to do, Daniel?"

"You've already looked me up. Looked my friends up. You thought you'd give me the chance to come clean."

There were a few worried glances that came about in the room when the singer had figured out their plan, despite them being sure they would be at least four steps ahead. Dan seemed to be the one, and they were adamant to take him. **** ~~~~

"What has he told you, Daniel?" Terrance asked him seriously, and at that point, the blue-eyed man didn't really care, though he was still willing to lose a limb for the people who cared about him most.

So he had to be cruel to be kind.

"I wouldn't know. You think he gives a damn about me? No he doesn't. He's ruthless, controlling, he's poison. Because of the past, he thinks he can lord it over me. That's the truth," Dan snapped, and for him, it was pretty believable.

And it was, because the guards and Hill nodded in agreement. They didn't want to dispose of the man, and that had never been their plan anyway, so they came up with a better one instead. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Palmer advancing towards his side of the room.

"We've got somewhere for you to stay. Perhaps you'd feel more comfortable there from now on," Palmer offered, and Dan thought the offer was weird.

Twisted. Though, he knew that he would have to go along with it, but he did care for his friends and wanted them to know of his whereabouts.

"Well, if you allow me to let a friend know where I am, I'd happily oblige. I'm guessing you don't want anyone looking for me, right?" Dan assumed, and was very right to assume and try to bargain with the men.

Hill made a gesture that Dan could go back to his block on his own, and one of them would come and pick him up in twenty minutes. With haste and nerves and a fastened heartbeat, Dan sped-walked back to his room, quietly gathering his bandmates and explaining what had just happened to him. They were planning to make him like Margaret and all the other people Terrance had kidnapped. Kyle was appalled, and packed a bag for him.

"Listen to me. I'm not letting them take you in, OK? OK?" Kyle whispered.

Unfortunately, Dan had to be the one they'd chosen.

Dan began to get emotional looking at Kyle, and it hadn't been intentional, either. He wiped his tired eyes with his fingers, trying to keep himself together. He had less than ten minutes before one of the inner circle members came and took him away.

"OK, this has to be the start of our revolution. I know it's mad, it's crazy, but Zara has a safe house, kinda. Guards aren't about in area two now, so you can go on over there," Charlie advised, breathless at the stupid situation that was happening to them.

Will was silent in the corner, in total realisation that his and Charlie's alliance with the revolutionaries could have very well cost them Dan, and they needed to be more careful. On the other hand, who made history by not taking risks?

"We will see each other soon. Look, I'll make sure one of us visits you. We've got Mark in this as well. We'll get him to keep an eye. Charlie says Zara will take care of you, and please don't do anything without our say so, alright?" Will finally summarised.

Woody was in the corner of the room too, trying to take in all the information possible behind his thick head full of hair. He wished him good luck, and that they would come into contact with each other very soon. Before he would send the singer off, he revealed a big package underneath his bed he'd received but had been scared to open. Eventually, Kyle had been the one to open it and gasped at the contents.

It was all of their phones. 

The men hid them accordingly, and smuggled Dan out of the area before the inner circle member was going to come asking for Dan. Charlie made sure he was as far away from area three, whereas Will made his way to Hill's office so he couldn't be tied back to Dan's escape.

When Terrance did arrive at Dan's room, he was very annoyed to find it empty, and wondered why Hill had been so keen to let him go.

Though, Hill always did do things with reason, and if Dan Smith was to be the one, he was to be the one with good reason.


	17. A World Gone Mad

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> prepare yourself for this and don't hate me  
> I loved A World Gone Mad and have fallen in love with the new song which heavily influenced this chapter. Watch the video and check out the song on youtube  
> it's a biggie to make up for the lack of uploads, sorry guys if you're reading this trash thinking grrrr where's my caught in the currents chapter  
> it's 4956 words of pure hard work and crying ok  
> important: yes, I can guarantee by 0:00am on the 14th Nov in UK time there will be a chapter up. (in other words, it'll be likely there is a chapter up in the next two days as the 12th of November is a sad day for me for really personal reasons)  
> important: yes, the story has a /? so the fanfic isn't finished yet for those who were wondering

That early morning, a worried Dan walked into the safe house. Zara recognised him and welcomed him inside, along with a few others. The room was only full with about ten people. He did get quizzed as he walked in, though he told them that he knew Will and Charlie and what they stood for. To sell himself further, he told the revolutionary group that he was willing to help them in any way possible.

Since Dan hadn't been sleeping well, he listened to Zara talk about her newfound crush or some guy she'd been seeing recently, and how she wasn't sure what to think of him, though she was sure that he was a good person. Dan was pretty sure it wasn't anyone he knew, so as far as he was concerned, it didn't involve him, but aided his sleep. He fell asleep quite peacefully that night, though he did warn people not to touch him.

Later that day, when it was later in the morning, Dan was woken up by loud noises of people bustling about within the room. Suddenly, there were more people in the room doing various tasks and jobs. Zara was at the thick of it, giving orders and shouting at those who were standing around and doing nothing. A weak Dan, intrigued by what was going on, got to his feet to have a better look. 

In the middle of the room, Zara greeted him with a smile and welcomed him over to the main plan. Whilst he was asleep, a model of the facility had been wheeled in. The revolutionaries had a good idea of where everything was in the building. A tired Dan rubbed his eyes, hoping to come more to terms with what was happening. Once he was informed of the plan, he took some interest in joining in. However, Zara was wary. She wasn't sure whether it was the right thing to do, as the singer was not up to speed with the _full plan._

An hour before noon, the rest of the band got together somehow, making sure that Terrance wasn't tracking their movements. They suspected they were safe from detection for at most half an hour. The men planned to make contact with Dan, as they had been aware of the revolutionary activity for some time now. Given the fact that Hill had been keen to question Dan and lock him away showed that The Draw was serious. Woody wanted them to act now.

"OK, we'll get Dan. They'll we'll bring this motherfucker down," Kyle said with newfound confidence, picturing him and his friends stood on the outside world.

Just as the men were going to go their separate ways, they heard a loud, ear-shattering boom come from somewhere in the facility. Kyle's heart began to race very quickly as did Woody's as he slowly opened Will's bedroom door. Will's hands were shaking at the sound of the noise. _Had that been an explosion?_

"What the fuck? What the fuck was that?" Charlie questioned at the top of his voice, worried that the whole of The Draw would _literally come down._

Within seconds, the band had their answer as they looked at the facility through the bassist's bedroom door. People were running around like crazy, gathering people and walking in crowds. Guards were trying to tell everyone to stay calm, but nobody was listening. Inmates started to fight back, showing resistance.

"It wasn't meant to start yet. Fuck. We need to get out of here, Charlie. We can't be anywhere near this shit," Will urged.

That was right, and all the men nodded, though stepping out there seemed out of the question for the two men. Woody had a better idea.

"Listen. We stay together, and we get Dan. That way we can make sure he's safe. All we need to do is get to the weapon room," Woody advised, and it was agreed on.

It seemed that they had suddenly found themselves preparing for an all out war rather than a simple uprising like originally planned.

Elsewhere in the facility, Dan had been travelling with the most skilled revolutionaries when he had heard the bang. It was somewhere off area two. One second, he had been walking with some allies, the next, he heard someone shout something, telling him to duck and protect himself, so he dived onto the floor, trying to cover himself. It had been a full ten minutes before Dan had decided to move, scared out of his skin. He looked up, and the people that were with him weren't there. They'd ran as far as possible from the explosion.

Slowly, Dan got up, not looking around to much in fear that he would find dead bodies. Luckily, he didn't come across any. In those few moments that the singer came to his senses, he saw madness that he had never seen before. It shocked him how inmates had turned savage, even carrying knives in an attempt to scare off guards. People were fighting with each other over food, guards were trying to calm people down and there were some that were injured and could barely walk.

Looking up, the metal work of the facility had been somewhat damaged in area two, hanging from the ceiling dangerously and in bits all over the floor. In front of him, especially, was a lot of debris from the explosion. A mix of dust, wood and various metal parts. What intrigued the singer most was that a small stream of water was travelling down the corridors in area two, threatening to bring his shoes discomfort.

In the midst of all of it, he felt so hopeless, so alone. There was only one person that could keep him going.

Cautiously, the singer minded various fights that were breaking out as he made his way through area two to see where the explosion had been. He followed the sounds of screaming, total chaos and anarchy to a room Charlie had described to him once before. Of course, he knew he was looking for trouble by _following trouble_ , but he couldn't help it. The room, not surprisingly, now had no door. Dan looked at where the door had once been, and the door frame was completely fucked.

Despite the warning signs he was getting from the room, he nervously stepped into it and gasped at what he saw. River Rachel was overflowing, pouring into the room. He'd made a mistake by going in there, because there were two guards who spotted him immediately.

"You there!"

"Stop!"

In fear, Dan backed away from them, realising that he was defenceless against the guards who were holding metal batons. He fell over, feeling backed into a corner as they approached him. Just when he thought he was done for, some inmates filtered in as they'd seen him go inside of the room. Amongst them was Zara, who had insisted that they come back for the singer. With a little more ease, Dan got to his feet. Although Dan didn't like the violence he had just seen, he realised he would need to man up a little if he was going to survive with what was going on. The revolutionaries beside Zara were holding bats, and he was passed one.

She led him away from the fight that broke out in the room he was just in.

"You're not a fighter, are you?" she figured, and he didn't mind her joking about it because it was very true, as he had never been.

"Nah, I'm really not," Dan laughed in response, thankful for the girl's kindness, even in the middle of an all-out war.

Once the group of revolutionaries were finished dealing with the two guards, the blue-eyed man saw it fit to thank them. He'd become a bit of a celebrity in The Draw, and the revolutionaries recognised him and liked him very much. It made Dan feel a little more comfortable, and the bat he was holding in his hands soon felt more like a feather.

"Now, we're going to break all the kidnapped inmates out. They were taken by a bounty hunter. We don't know much about him, but he gets orders from someone - Hill, the head of the council. Anyone who's a threat to The Draw regime," Zara explained, though Dan was already informed of that by Charlie and Will when they ran into an old friend some time ago.

If in any way he could help, he wanted to. It was time the council took a step down and listened to its people for once.

"His name is Terrance, and he's a fucking live one," Dan warned, and the revolutionaries thanked him for the information.

With that in mind, the revolutionaries quickened their pace, the singer finally feeling like a part of the group. They tried to help people on their way there. It had taken them just under an half an hour to get to area six, given all the chaos. There, they stormed into Hill's office, and were not surprised to find it empty. With safety of those kidnapped in mind, one of the revolutionaries carefully opened a hidden door in the office, testing it for any traps. He then stepped inside, and the coast was clear. Dan had been in there before, and it was a set of rooms.

Quickly, they managed to damage the locks and break down the doors of the kidnapped inmates who had been left to rot, rescuing them one by one. As soon as Magaret saw the familiar face of Dan, she ran up to him, hugging him tightly even though she barely knew him. Dan was no longer a stranger to touch, and he embraced her fully before wiping her tears.

"Listen, it'll be alright. Stay safe, okay?" Dan whispered into her ear before the revolutionaries gave her and the others they rescued some advice and instructions to get the safe haven they'd set up somewhere in area one.

As soon as Dan and the revolutionaries made their way out of Hill's office, they realised something that they hadn't before. They'd been too busy to notice, but Dan's face was plastered all around The Draw.

With a bounty.

DAN SMITH, 29, WANTED ALIVE. WANTED FOR OFFENCES AGAINST THE DRAW. HAND HIM INTO THE CANTEEN IMMEDIATELY. IF FOUND, YOU WILL RECIEVE ONE GRAND AND ADDITIONAL REWARDS

At that, the singer laughed and ripped the poster off of the wall.

"What a load of shit. Was that all they could come up with?" the blue-eyed man mutter underneath his breath, which triggered a few laughs from the people by his side.

All of a sudden, the laughter came to an end as a group of guards armed with batons came thundering down the other side of the corridor. They'd been given orders to find the blue-eyed man, and they came to a stop when they saw him with the ripped poster in his hands. Dan's mouth dropped, and the revolutionaries had a similar reaction. There were six of them in total, but it was going to take every single one of them to take the six guards on.

"There he is! Get him!" one of the guards bellowed at the top of his voice as he began to advance towards the group along with his backup behind him.

With no fear, the revolutionaries were counting backwards from ten. One of them and Zara turned to him.

"Run Dan, get to safety. We can take care of this," one of the revolutionaries strongly advised him, but there was no way he could leave them there.

He hadn't known them very long, and he didn't want to appear selfish for saving his own back just because he was scared of getting into a fight. When the singer hadn't budged, Zara figured she would have to give him a push.

"RUN DAN!"

The sound of her voice triggered something in the singer, who took to his heels and ran in the other direction, his heat beat quickening as he narrowly dodged a massive chunk of metal that had been thrown in the crossfire. In those moments that he was running for his life, people dropping all around him, he tried to pull himself together.

How he was doing that when he felt the whole world had gone mad, he didn't know.

When Dan found a safe place in a nearby store cupboard, he made sure to lock the door and pull his phone out that he'd received a day ago. He was surprised to find that everything was how he left it, and wondered who had chosen to deliver his phone. Anyway, he dialled Will's number, as he would be the one most likely to answer.

Somewhere in area four, Will felt his jeans vibrating. He pulled out his phone whilst a few metres away, a fight was breaking out. He picked up the pace, following his friends as he tried to make out who was calling him in the noise of the revolution.

"Will, it's me, Dan. I'm in a store cupboard somewhere in area six. It's too dangerous to go there now, OK? There's masses of guards. I'm pretty sure you've seen the posters. I'm going to come and meet you guys and hopefully slip through the net. I'm armed, so I'll be alright."

Whilst Kyle was running, he heard the sound of his friend's voice on the phone, happy to know that he was still alive and well, though disappointed that he didn't want the band to come to him instead.

"OK, promise you'll be alright? We're in area four. I'm sure you can make it here in the next ten minutes if you're quick. You're bound to run into us. We'll find each other. Stay safe."

Then, the call ended.

A tired Dan ran through the rest of area six, narrowly dodging guards and fights. Some guards had seen him, though he had managed to escape from them accordingly. Soon, he found himself in area five. Luckily, there were hardly any guards lurking around in that area, so he breezed through it.

In no time, he came face to face with his friends. Kyle was happy to see him in the flesh again, and couldn't help himself as he immediately threw his arms around the older man. Dan smiled weakly. The band eyed him, and he was a bit bruised, but fine. He informed them of how they had rescued the kidnapped, and the band were pleased that things were going more according to plan.

Apart from the massive increase in water flowing from area two to area three. A woman ran past them, screaming that the whole of area two was flooded. Dan had forgotten to mention that.

"Someone blew up the room River Rachel was in. There's nothing holding it back, but it wasn't as bad when I was in area two," Dan explained.

The men were nervous.

"There's no way this place could go down, come on," Woody assured the men who were worrying too much about a bit of water.

Anyway, they had no time to stand around and discuss things, especially with the rapid water flow that was starting to drown their feet. Considering what the woman had just screamed out in horror, they didn't see it fit going back to areas three or two. Though the safe haven was in area one, there was no getting through there through the wraths of River Rachel.

"The canteen is the highest means of ground in the facility. I know they're hunting you Dan, but I think that's where we should go," Charlie proposed.

It seemed like the most reasonable option, and nobody argued against it. Quickly, the men made their way out of area four. Dan had mentioned that there was a lot of guard activity in area six, so that was out of the question. Using the stairs, the men slowly advanced to the canteen. They were the set of stairs that would bring them to the highest point of the canteen. 

When they got there, there was nobody in there. Instead, the found a store cupboard at the start of area five that they could take temporary residence in, waiting for the inner circle members to show up in the canteen. Charlie pulled out some food to lighten the mood. The men ate, though none of them expressed how they were nervous.

"How did we get here?" Dan asked himself and the rest of the group, feeling as if the world had gone completely and totally mad.

Will let out a sigh, as nobody really knew how they'd gotten there. For some reason, they had all saw it fit to live in an abandoned town with a corrupt council by a river for about eight years.

"I don't know, though Mark text me. I've told him where we are, and he says he's nearby," Woody mentioned.

Feeling confused, the men looked around the tiny store cupboard they were in, seeing no signs of anyone but themselves. Suddenly, they heard someone yell out. Kyle had fallen through what had been a fake wall into a much bigger space. Mark was standing on the other side with a smile and his hands in his pockets, dressed head to toe in full guard uniform. There were some other people there, and the band advised them to stay there as they weren't armed. Those people happily obliged, cuddling up together for warmth since they were frightened.

On first glance, it was obvious that Mark was hurt, because there was a thin tear on his arm that had blood seeping out of it. Luckily, Kyle had some bandages on hand and managed to fix him up quickly. He was a strong soldier, and told the rest of the band that he would be okay. Will informed Mark of the plan. As dangerous as it was, they had no better ideas, unless they wanted to drown.

A reminder of drowning was presented to the men as Woody struggled to open the door. With a lot of effort, he did, shocked as the water that had built up in the last ten minutes at just below knee level. Dan complained greatly at his squelching shoes. It pained him when he saw bits of personal belongings floating along beside him, children's toys, slippers, bedcovers and cosmetics.

_How many more people had to suffer?_

The band were approaching the canteen a lot more slowly than they had before due to the excess water. They were carefully wading through the water, with Mark at the back of them to warn them of any upcoming objects. Throughout their journey to the canteen, they heard screams and loud, thumping noises, though they had to ignore them as there was nothing they could do about it.

Kyle began to worry as he felt drops of what he suspected to be rainwater on his forehead. He looked up again, thinking he was being paranoid, but the drips became more frequent.

"Guys. That's not good. Fuck," Kyle swore, looking up at the failed pipework in the ceiling of are alive.

Immediately, the band began to run when they heard the loud noise of pipework falling from the ceiling a couple metres away, weakened by the rainwater on the outside of the facility. The ceiling started to fall away too. Charlie shouted at the top of his voice for the men to get moving if they didn't want to drown any time soon.

Somehow, the men had managed to make it into the canteen. Will's jaw dropped at the amount of water that was flowing through the facility, and they couldn't close the door, and it certainly didn't help that it was now raining inside of the facility too.

As if on cue, the inner circle members flooded into the room, including Hill. They were stood in a structured line opposite to the men on the other side of canteen, also on higher ground. The inner circle members were miraculously dry, not an inch of them damp compared to the men on the other side. Dan and his friends also stood in a united line, looking at the inner circle members in hate. Terrance was there too. Dry. He gripped the handrails.

"We see where you stand," Terrance noted, making eye contact with the two people he thought would have been valuable members of the inner circle.

"What are you trying to achieve?" Hill asked the men seriously, surrounded by his own team who were willing to do anything to protect him.

The band members looked at each other, and wish they had prepared something totally badass to say. More rain began to seep through the canteen, as well as the scary sounds of the infrastructure creaking. Suddenly, an anger surged through Charlie, and the band were willing to condone it to avoid looking like a bunch of rebellious kids who had nothing to say about what they were protesting about.

"Justice!" Kyle suddenly shouted out, clenching his fists as he thought of all the things that had gone wrong in the town for the years that he had been living there.

Clearly, the inner circle members weren't very impressed, and convinced that a six man army were not going to defeat them. Hill confidently crossed his arms, watching them squirm like a group of idiots. _Were the band lying to themselves? Could they really take Jon Hill and his cronies on?_

"For Rachel," Charlie announced, backing Kyle up as he held onto the handrails and stared at the other men in hatred on the other side of the canteen.

Those two words made Palmer a bit uneasy, and it was really visible to the band as he looked down at the metalwork he was standing on instead of the enemy opposite him. It appeared to some that he looked as guilty as hell.

"Nothing will come out of this. What are you planning to do?" the middle-aged man asked the men seriously.

Just as the band were going to question that, Will gestured that he already had a plan set in place. 

"River Rachel takes sinners, so you will all drown, and you're damn sure to be going to hell," Charlie shouted, doing the talking for the group.

More rain began to seep through the canteen, and the inner circle members quickly discussed getting out of the canteen, though Hill convinced them that they would be fine before any real damage happened. Palmer took a step toward the handrail as did Terrance who was clearly holding a metal baton behind his back, and Woody immediately drew a wooden stick he'd found earlier, throwing it at him. It skimmed the young man, triggering a scream and gasps from the inner circle members. 

"You're going to regret that," Palmer warned the shaggy-haired man, but by that point, he'd stopped caring about the consequences of his actions.

"And you, you're silent. Will. Mark," Terrance noted.

Mark didn't answer, as he couldn't be bothered, and the bassist hadn't intended on speaking yet, but since the bounty hunter was prompting him, he saw no harm.

"I don't answer to you," Will snapped.

That seemed to have shocked the bounty hunter, whose posture weakened a little as he drew back from his stance and talked to his fellow inner circle members. He urged on making tracks and just leaving the men on the other side. However, Hill was still adamant that the men would not harm them, and he liked to have a front row seat in any drama happening.

"Do your worst," Hill egged the men on.

At that, the band members smirked at one another. It was Dan's time to talk, and he took pleasure in it as he crossed his arms, holding his bat by resting it on the back of his head, turning his nose up at the men stood on the other side of the canteen.

"You don't wanna fuck with us," Dan warned the inner circle members.

Jon Hill began to laugh at Dan's war cry, as did the other inner circle members.  On the countdown of three, Will reached into his pocket and pulled out a gun. At that, the inner circle members gasped as their eyes began to fill with worry. As much as he wanted to, he resisted (with him being within the law) and pointed the gun at the ceiling, his legs spread slightly apart. For a moment, the inner circle members were confused. 

"FOR RIVER RACHEL AND ALL YOUR SINS!" all the band members shouted.

Will pulled the trigger, a bullet hole going into the ceiling with a loud bang. Palmer covered his ears, afraid of what was to come. The firing of the gun was followed by another, another and another. The gunshots could be heard all throughout the draw. With every gunshot, more and more rain filtered into the facility. Eventually, after the eight shot, Will ran out of ammo. 

"HE'S BRINGING THE WHOLE PLACE DOWN!" Terrance shouted at the top of his lungs, realising what Will was trying to do.

However, it was too late and there wasn't anywhere to run. The band members stood in a line still, unlike the men on the other side. Charlie performed the same prayer he had before he had jumped into the river some time ago, and for a split second, he swore he saw Rachel in his imagination. The ceiling gave way on the other side that the inner circle members stood on, and they tried to run to safety, but the metalwork they were standing on started to creak. Quickly, Will disposed of the gun and gently squeezed Kyle's shoulder and Mark's. The rest of them did the same, nodding at one another.

Less than a minute had passed, and most of the ceiling in the canteen had fallen all around the men. Hill and his men were screaming as they had it worse their side, and the metal-like bridge they were standing on had screws loose.

"What have you done? What have you done?" Hill kept on saying over and over again, quite possibly losing his mind.

Clearly, there was a storm brewing outside of the facility in the town, and it came crashing down all at once into the canteen. A giant wave of water crept into the canteen, effecting the inner circle members first, sweeping them and the metal floor they'd been standing on away. Palmer screamed, and it appeared over there as the men went down, it was every man for himself. They were submerged in water, going down, down into The Draw. 

Shortly after that, the screws were coming loose on the side that the band members were standing on. It scared Dan a little, but he shook it off because he was fearless. Kyle held his hand, and suggested that they all hold hands. It was an end to things.

And end to everything.

They closed their eyes as they went down, with nowhere to go, feeling the water nip at their skin and almost rip them apart. Mark's screams were heard in the water as he was almost washed away by travelling debris, until Woody grabbed hold of him and held in hand tightly. Now, the men were caught in the currents, and there was nothing they could do about it. 

After five minutes, the men had become stationary, but the cold water was having more of an effect on the men then they had originaly thought, but that was okay. By that point, their bodies had been swept away from the canteen and into a nearby corridor, their heads up to the ceiling. They tried their best to see one another.

Kyle and Dan were next to each other, and as scary as what he wanted to say was, he predicted they only had minutes until they all were no more. He took a deep breath before hurting his neck to face the blue eyed man.

"Dan. Dan..."

"Yeah?"

"Before...b-before we die, I want...I-I want you to know something."

Dan's eyes widened, as he had a pretty good idea what it was. For the moments that they were stationary and due to run out of air, the bearded man was wasting his last minutes on him - and it meant a lot to him.

"I'm in love with you, and I always have been."

The rest of the band smiled, as they had known all along, even Mark, who had parted with the band a long time ago. Before the band could congratulate them, the water level got higher and higher.

Dan felt confident enough to face his fears and finally tell the bearded man how he felt about him, as he hadn't those three years ago. Even in death, he would be elated to know that they both _finally knew_ how they really felt about each other. However, his hopes were taken away by a massive wave of water which knocked the men out.

Suddenly, the singer's world turned black, and in his unconsciousness, his fingers slipped away from Kyle's. As much as he wanted to fight against the currents, River Rachel was too strong, and all his hopes and dreams washed away in the river water with him. It was the end. River Rachel gladly took sinners, and he must have been one of them, because she was showing him no mercy.

In his unconsciousness, he got flashbacks to when he had fallen into the river that day, and he had been blessed with Kyle's face that day. Even though he'd been hesitant to actually dive in and save him, the singer couldn't blame him. There had been a lot of bad blood between them, so it was normal. Even if Dan had drowned that day, he would have been happy to die in front of a familiar face.

Though, the world had gone mad and had other plans for him and his friends, separating them from one another. There was nothing he could do about it. The world was cruel, and it lived up to its reputation that day.

On his dying day, the one regret he had was not telling Kyle how he felt.


	18. I Just Died In Your Arms

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> now, I thought about all the different ways I would do this chapter. Originally, I was going to combine 3 chapters and then add my new take on what I was going to write, instead, I just wrote the new take  
> "wait cleardays!!!!! isn't the story finished????"  
> "nope! ha! GOT EEM!"  
> ignore the got eem   
> sorry if I'm confusing you, and this isn't the chapter you guys probably want lmao but it needed to be here, kill me later :)
> 
> maybe we'll actually get to find out the truth!

That dreaded night, Will, in the midst of the chaos, had managed to slip backstage away from the arguing, the shouting and the failure of the concert. He helped himself to the beers that were reserved for the sound crew, but he was selfish and saw nothing wrong with it given the situation. 

Little did he know that those five minutes were crucial. The bassist decided that backstage had been too quiet for him, so he slipped further out of the concert, making sure nobody saw him as he headed off into the night, blending into the blackness that fully engulfed him. He only made it to the start of the forest, and the sign was barley visible. At that point, the man was quite drunk, and only hoped that the police would find that girl.

Not knowing whether he was fully drunk or not, he came to a halt when he heard a piercing scream come from somewhere in the woods. He tried his best to find out what it was, but he needed to get back to the band because he was scared himself. As quickly as he could, even in his drunken state, he managed to get back to the concert and slip through the entrance. 

Unfortunately, he bumped right into Charlie, who looked very stressed. He noticed that Will had been drinking and rolled his eyes. Upon bumping into Charlie, Will stumbled and Charlie had to catch him.

"Scream...sc....scream," Will muttered under his breath.

Charlie thought that meant nothing to him, and didn't consider it to mean anything in those few crucial moments. Instead, he wasted his time trying to make the bassist look as sober as possible to anyone who saw him.

Forty five minutes before the police came, a girl with long blonde hair managed to find her way over to an appealing old man with some cigarettes on his person. She fixed her makeup and made her way over to him confidently. The older man's eyes took interest, as he had seen her once before when Bastille had performed at her birthday party.

"You wouldn't mind doing me a favour, right?" the girl asked him, her voice sounding more cuter than she had planned, though the plan would work all the same.

"Sure, shoot," the older man replied, watching her closely as she brushed back some of her golden hair with her fingers.

To really play the part, the young girl looked at the ground for a moment before brushing her hair away from her face again. Even in the dark, the older man took notice of her eyes. They were the rarest shade of green he had ever seen. Quickly, he snapped out of it and remembered that he was waiting for someone.

"I want something strong to smoke, do you have...something like that?"

Immediately, the man lost interest. She was just another kid trying to get up the ranks in popularity, he thought. Just by looking at her, he could tell that she was under eighteen and she wasn't kidding anyone. For the purpose of getting rid of her, he nodded and gave her some of his stash of weed.

"Stay safe, kid."

The last word caused the girl's nose to wrinkle up as she thanked the man before delving deeper into the night. As she walked blind in the dark, she began to search for a quiet spot to have her fix. Once she had it, she figured that what she would seeing would go away, and the world would be as it was again, and she could go back to him. Exhale. The horrible stench of the drug entering her body, washing off of her and mixing in with the wind.

Unfortunately, she'd been wrong as she could see the thing again. That figure in the shadows, following her and hunting her. Quickly, she moved throughout the woods, dodging branches and bushes in a bid to get away from the dark figure. It'd been following her for the past couple of weeks, not leaving her alone, calling out to her, hunting her down. _She couldn't let it win, couldn't let it get back to her._ The young girl could feel her face burning for some reason, and her hands started to shake. _Why? Why was that happening?_

Suddenly, the dark figure that had been hiding in the shadows finally decided to make a move and advance toward her, attempting to make a grab at her. The girl screamed at the top of her voice, and her scream could be heard by anyone in the woods.

From a distance was a man who had been watching the girl for some time now. He wasn't the dark figure, though he was trying to hunt whoever would harm her. However, halfway through his pursuit, he unfortunately lost sight of the girl because someone appeared behind him and hit him with a crowbar. The man fell to the floor, his nose ring lost to the forest floor.

After twenty minutes of running and trying to find places to hide, the blonde thought she was safe. She took a deep breath, going through her phone d her contacts list. After listening to a voicemail from a certain someone, she called them, only for her phone to die halfway through. It was waterlogged too, which probably didn't help.

Seeing as she didn't really know what she was doing, she threw her phone down on the forest floor, deciding to leave it. It was broken, she thought, so there was no point carrying it with her. The girl jumped when she thought she saw the ghost, the dark looking figure again. She tried her best to run away from it, but it was so close, and she lost her footing and fell. 

A crack could be heard as the blonde hit her head. It took all of her strength to get up again, her hands shaking and covered in the blood that was dripping from her forehead. On first glance, her hands looked bigger. _Why did they look bigger? What was wrong with her?_ The blonde began to feel faint from the blood loss, though she didn't know how hurt she was. She took a break by a nearby tree.

Five minutes late, a tall, blond sixteen year old boy seemed to have come to her rescue. He put his hands on either side of the girl's face, looking at her lifeless expression.

"Rachel, Rachel. I'm so sorry. I-I failed you. I-I-I can't believe this. I will get help, I will get help, I will get help for you," the boy promised, his emotions getting the better of him as his hands slipped away from the girl's face.

She opened her eyes just in time to see the boy's face, before he slipped away into the night, hoping to get some help for her injuries. The girl wasn't aware of what was going on, and she felt very confused as she stared off into the night, darkness washing over her.

Even though she was told to stay put, with the last bit of strength, she got to her feet. One thing that did bring her some salvation was the river. She could hear it from where she was, and she was quite close to it, so she made her way over to it, looking at her reflection in it. Despite it being night, she could see some of her own reflection, and she smiled into the river water.

However, she heard a sound. It had made a small noise, but it had been enough to scare her. It was the dark figure again. Without warning, it reached out and brought her into the darkness that night. The blonde's arms flailed in the air as she lost her footing and fell into the river. She saw all sorts of different shapes in the river, along with debris and rubbish. The blonde thought they were pretty, but didn't have any strength to reach them. She realised too late that she'd been concentrating too much on the beauty of the river to save herself from her fate. With her eyes open, she saw the surface of the water and the dark figure standing by the river bank as her hands were up, water flowing through her fingers and she sank further and further into the depths below. She'd been caught in the currents, and there was no way out.

_But she saw their face. She saw it._

Then, someone jumped into the river. Her eyes were closed, so she hadn't managed to see their face, but they grabbed onto her hands, pulling her back to the surface with the mortal dwellers. They'd always been a good swimmer. It took most of their strength, but they managed to drag the girl back to the river bank.

Despite her long, dark brown hair being in the way, she flicked it so that it was behind her, assessing the girl. She had a head injury, but what mattered was bringing her back. Bringing her back to earth. The girl tried not to panic as she gently shook the blonde, her blue eyes filling up with tears.

"Please, please God. Please, don't take her," the bright blue eyed girl begged, looking up at the storm that was brewing in the sky.

It seemed as if God had been listening to the girl, because the blonde coughed up a lot of water, her eyes opening. The girl with the bright blue eyes smiled and was elated that she had woken up. When the blonde did regain consciousness, all she saw was an angel of some sort, and she was very beautiful with amazing long, dark hair and enchanting blue eyes, so she felt the need to run her hands through the girl's wet hair. What the blonde did feel was the coldness of the night.

"Angel, thank you for saving me, but I fear it's too late for me now," the blonde croaked, and the girl who had just saved her life had no idea what she was talking about.

"What are you talking about? You're not making any sense, Rach," the girl asked her, who was surprisingly calm about the whole situation.

"It'll come for me, and it will take me. The river, it can't wash away my sins, get away before it comes and claims you too," the blonde uttered pure craziness.

There, like a drowned rat in the rain, the girl had a tough decision as her friend began to slip into a state of unconsciousness. Her eyes kept opening and closing, and she wasn't sure what to do. She was convinced that her friend was dying in her arms. The girl, seeing as it was a sensible idea, pulled out her phone to call an ambulance, but the drug induced girl still had some fight in her, and that was used to slap the phone out of the girl's hand.

Before the girl could protest, someone attacked her from the shadows, grabbing her and trying to take her away from the blonde. She tried to scream, but the attacker put a hand over her mouth. Her friend was laying there, and she couldn't do anything to help her. In fear of her own life, she fought back at the attacker, not seeing their face as she ran away.

That night, the blonde's eyes closed for the last time as her attacker got on top of her, five rolls of clingfilm beside her body. The attacker got to work, using the clingfilm to wrap her body accordingly. Carefully, they placed her by the riverbank and made haste into the night.

Then, it was reported, almost an hour and a half later, that Rachel Richards' body had been found by the riverbank in the town.

Once Bastille got the news, Charlie was the first to take off. That was it, once it was announced, he was gone and disappeared into the night, back to his hotel. He was the first one back, and he was too hurt by the girl's death to cry. What he remembered doing was smashing the glass in the bathroom cabinet. He yelled out in pain and the blood seeping from his right fist. Though he was sure it was fucked, he did the only thing he could think of.

Charlie saw red. With his left hand, he opened the bathroom cabinet of the hotel's bathroom and opened the wash bag he'd always brought with him. The necklace she had given him some time ago, it felt heavy on his neck. Inside of it was a razor. Without thinking of the consequences, he started hacking at his arms. The wrists, his upper arms, feeling satisfied at the skin peeling, tearing and bleeding.

After all, didn't he deserve it? For not being there for her? 

To think of her, to picture her lying alone there, dying alone in the night, by the river in the storm, she must have been cold, scared. That was enough for him to grab a bottle of pills and give him the perfect excuse to end it all.

Charlie wasn't discovered by anyone for ten minutes. Those ten minutes were crucial. A maid stepped into his room and screamed. One of the band members, by then, would have checked up on him, but they weren't in the hotel by that point. Ambulances were on the scene within five minutes, scooping up the lifeless man in a bid to try to save his life.

Hours later, he woke up alone in his hospital bed. He put his hands together and wasn't very surprised. There were two nurses by his bed telling him that everything was going to be okay, but the bandages on his arms and the terrible feeling in his stomach told him otherwise. Mr Barnes was reluctant to ask any questions that doctors asked him.

As far as he was concerned, life wasn't worth living now that the one thing he held onto had slipped away from him. It was her, and she had been everything to him.

"Mr Barnes, you have tried to commit suicide, so we're going to have to refer you to a mental hospital. We have to try and get you some help."

It was fine with him, it wasn't fine with him. He didn't really care that his friends weren't there either, because they weren't his friends, they couldn't have given a flying fuck about him. Plus, they probably didn't know where he was, and that was fine with him. He stared at the ceiling, hoping that the time would pass him by.

And as that time began to pass by, there were moments he thought that perhaps he should have walked away.


	19. This is Where We Are

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> GOT EEM  
> enjoy but don't be mad  
> ok fair play, be mad lmao
> 
> when is this ending? i'm not really sure? it is nearing the end though

 

The town was quite small in itself. Bodies were scattered everywhere, drenched in a lot of water. A hitchhiker happened to have made his way into the town, going undetected by the council. He was horrified at all the bodies around him and immediately tried to get help, but not one person was in their home or any building in the area. He began to think that it was a prank, but he was very wrong as he came across a dead body.

The scared hitchhiker did the only thing he could do, and called an ambulance, police, the lot. It seemed as if a war had broken out, and the ground was very weak as it was obvious that the river had flowed over, causing masses of floods. At first, the police and the ambulance services had a hard time believing him, until he took pictures. The hitchhiker cursed out loud when they said it would take them at least two hours to get up to the town, since it was in such an obscure location. Of course, the man shouted down the phone but they hung up, informing him to stay put.

On a piece of floating metalwork was the body of a man with almost-black hair. The side of his head had dried blood on it. For a while, the river had been carrying him along as its currents had died down. The whole town was pretty much still and quiet. It had always been that way, but given the situation it was even weirder. It was said by many that River Rachel only drowned sinners, though it had given that man its aid as he and the floating metal work came to a stop by the riverbank.

Further down the river was another body, whose lower half was in the water whilst his upper half wasn't, and a hand was over his chest as if he was doing a prayer. It was noticeable that he was breathing. Next to that body was another man not too far from him, whose wrist was at a funny angle and a tear in his clothing started bleeding through the wet bandages on him.

That day, the river must have been in a forgiving mood because there were the bodies of three other men that had washed up on the riverbank too. Two of them were holding hands, whilst the other seemed frozen in time.

Seeing as help wouldn't come until much later, the hitchhiker decided to try and help as many people as he could. Unfortunately, he didn't get much luck. Thirty minutes had passed and he hadn't found anyone that was alive, and he'd checked roughly fifty bodies. It was a terrible experience for him.

One man woke up with a horrible feeling as if he was drifting. He sat up immediately, his heart jumping out of his body when he felt the floor move. Slowly, he looked down and realised he'd been lying on a piece of metal framework. A few hard, unhealthy coughs followed as he vomited water. He got flashbacks to that time, though he shook the thought out of his head and positioned himself accordingly, stepping off the piece of metal framework and thanking River Rachel for not taking him.

He did the one thing he was good at. He'd been working on it for some friends in a while, and he figured that there would be plenty of people he would need to help in the next couple of minutes. It was the only thing that cleared his mind, too. So, he opened his mouth as he trekked the walk along the riverbank calmly.

_So this is where we are_

_It's not where we had wanted to be_

_If half the world's gone mad_

_The other half just don't care, you see_

One moment, the whole town was silent, then the sound of a lyrical genius could be heard throughout of it. It brought the hitchhiker some hope, who decided to head in the direction of the voice, as it seemed like someone was clearly alive and probably ready to help him help other people.

Another man felt as if the voice spoke to him, and he woke up, coughing up a lot of water too. His head felt very light, and he remembered what happened. He remembered what he had said before he let someone slip away from him. Then, he heard the lyrics. At the sound of the lyrics, he woke the two men beside him up, who had been holding hands.

_You don't want to fuck with us_

_British till the very last_

The three men recognised the voice instantly.

"Dan. It's Dan's, isn't it?" Kyle figured, surprised that he even had the strength to talk considering what had just happened to the men.

"Yep, that's him alright. God, he's so loud," Woody complained, running his fingers through his mattered, wet, long hair.

Will was a little worse for wear than the other two men as he clutched his side. There was a slight gash to his left side, though he convinced the two that it wasn't anything serious. Luckily, it wasn't a deep wound, and he figured he could get away with the injury for at most another day or so.

Kyle, inspired by Dan's voice as he was singing the song that they'd all put together on a whim in The Draw, decided to do the backing vocals accordingly, following the sound of the singer's voice. Woody and Will followed him, looking out for the blue eyed man.

It wasn't a surprise that the singer's voice woke up the other two men. The one with the broken wrist was the first to wake up, and he woke up in pain.

"Fuck," he muttered to himself as he cast eyes on the man next to him, both hands on his chest as if he was saying a prayer.

With his good hand, he reached out to touch the man's face and shake him into consciousness, though that didn't seem to be working. He didn't know how he did it, but he managed to pull the other half of his body out of the river and onto the ground. At that movement, the man woke up with a start, looking around him. Mark, forgetting that his wrist was broken, threw his arms around the man and yelled out in pain.

"Glad you're alive," Mark congratulated him, and that made Charlie laugh.

Still, Charlie couldn't believe that they'd both survived the flood of The Draw. At least they were out of that godforsaken place, they both thought. They began to wonder where the rest of the band were, but heard the sound of leading vocals and backup ones somewhere further along the river. It was in agreement that they would follow the sounds. Charlie thought he would join in too.

_When it feels like the world's gone mad_

_And there's nothing you can do about it_

_No there's nothing you can do about it_

Within another half an hour, it was obvious that the lyrics were coming from one place. Mark and Charlie found Woody, Kyle and Will. Kyle was the first to get emotional as he got really into hugging, to the producer's dismay as he screamed out in pain from his broken wrist again. Kyle apologised, but he was happy to see all of them alive.

Soon, the rest of the band had eyes on of Dan. They were all elated that he was okay. Dan began to tear up and his voice began to falter as he caught sight of the bearded man, and he felt really emotional because he had lived through the madness of The Draw and come out on the other side. Kyle had too, and he was waiting for him.

The group advanced towards the man. Kyle couldn't wait any longer and immediately ran up to the singer, pulling him into a tight embrace, and it was damn sure and obvious that it was much more than a friendly one. Dan returned the hug with the same amount of love and emotion, and Will gestured for the men to say their hellos a little later.

"I-I-I never though I-I-I'd see you again," Kyle stammered, remembering the moment where he had told the singer something very important.

He began to wonder if the singer remembered, because he stared at him for a moment. Then, he smiled. _How could he possibly forget?_

"I-I'm here now. I'm happy to see you again too, so happy," Dan whispered, his voice going away a little due to the singing.

Awkwardly, the pair stared at each other, not knowing what to say. Dan realised that he had forgotten to say something.

"Anyway, I do feel the same, and I am _so_ sorry for not communicating that three years ago. I love you too."

The singer's words had even surprised him himself, because he was sure those words would have never come out of his mouth if it hadn't been for the near death experience he'd just had, the thought of losing the one man he'd come to care for so much.

Time froze as the two men came to a kiss, triggering a cheer from Will who had been rooting for them from day one, thus triggering a hard nudge from Woody who thought the sound effects were unnecessary. Kyle remembered as he put his arms around the singer's neck and looked into his bright blue eyes, that they were in front of others and could save that for another time.

Meanwhile, Charlie brought to the attention of the men that they were standing in what seemed like a warzone. To convince the men, he got them to higher ground, and they were shocked to discover all of the bodies. By the time they'd gotten to higher ground, they saw the masses of ambulances and police arriving on the scene.

Though so many lives had been lost, as well as the town destroyed, the men realised that maybe it was time for a new start, away from the town by the river.

However, one man felt very differently. Charlie turned to the rest of the group in the nearby hospital, wrapped in a blanket.

"This is where we are, but I can't rest until I find out what happened to her," he admitted, and that was not the answer the group had been looking for.

Sadly, Mark looked at the trouble twenty seven year old. It wasn't that he was stupid, he had been in love, and he understood that all too well. Woody was about to bravely tell him that the past was in the past, and he should look at ways of looking forward, but the man cleared his throat to say more.

"I haven't really told anyone, but that night, I tried to kill myself."

Kyle's eyes widened, as did the rest of the group's. Dan placed a supportive hand on the man's shoulder in disbelief of what he had just said. Charlie went onto explain how he had remained in a mental hospital for about eight months until he was let out again because he blamed himself so much. The band knew that they _had_ to support him on his investigation.

An uninvited girl wandered into Charlie's hospital room, her long, dark brown hair flowing past her shoulders and her bright blue eyes illuminating the whole room. A long blanket was draped over her shoulders, and the expression on her face was very serious. Under her blanket, it was noticeable that she had a broken arm, but that was the least of her problems.

It was Zara.

Of course, the men were happy to see her as they were familiar with her, but they were curious as to how she had found her way to them.

"It was you, wasn't it?"

Charlie blinked at the girl, unaware of what she was talking about. Nobody said anything as Zara helped herself to his bed as nobody as on it. She sat with her legs crossed, staring at Charlie very carefully.

"You were her mystery man. I was paranoid at first, but I see it now. She said you were awfully stubborn, but you have a good heart. She used to drone on about how you smelt of apples, which I thought was silly because nobody could _possibly_ smell of apples, but you do. She said you would constantly sing Glory because that was your favourite...it all matches. Especially because she told me she gave you that necklace, too."

Mark offered to get the men some coffee, to which they agreed to given the new information. He went out of the room and to a vending machine nearby. Charlie began to feel nervous that someone other than Kyle knew about his relationship with the deceased underage girl. He looked down at his necklace, as he'd always cherished it, especially since the day she had died.

"For a long time, I felt guilty, but I think I owe you the truth, I owe all of you the truth."

The men prepared themselves for her story of what happened that night. By the time she was finished, Charlie was in tears. He was a wreck, and when Mark came back with the coffee, he was worried about him.

"I'm sorry that I didn't see their face," Zara apologised quietly, though Kyle was sat by her side and assured her that it was okay, and there was nothing more she could have done to save her friend.

Charlie wasn't mad at the girl. He was mad at the murderer, and he felt as if the sequence of events were connected. The concert, Rachel's death, him trying to kill himself, Dan almost drowning, Kyle being the one to save him and them all talking again in The Draw and working together like the old days.

But what psychopath would have been mad enough to plan that?


	20. Lying To Ourselves

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry if this sounds really shit and I broke my chapter once a week promise as I've been writing youtuber fanfiction stuff and I get more feedback and love on that (I'm so sorry, lmao)  
> I will finish this very soon though  
> It's 3000 words (normal length)  
> enjoy  
> I was going to finish it in this chapter but I would be rushing it  
> but yes I am sorry if it sounds shit. Thank you for reading

 

Whilst the band members were keen to assist Charlie Barnes in finding out on what happened to his lover that dreaded night, it seemed that the band were getting stopped more in the hospital. A lot of people wanted to hear from them. The nurses and hospital staff were also curious about the presence the band had on others. As prompted, the band found themselves in the midst of the hospital gardens.

Dan opened his mouth, despite the anxiety of people watching him sing acapella was doing to him in those moments.

_So this is where we are_

_It's not where we had wanted to be_

The song finished with a lot of people stood up, clapping, even those who were in their rooms and were watching from their windows.

At about noon, Charlie gathered himself, the rest of the band and Mark in his hospital room. He closed the door, which made Kyle a little uncomfortable, but he didn't say anything. Mark just knew that the atmosphere was about to become very tense.

"I think Zara is lying to me," Charlie mumbled.

The men felt a little relieved when they realised that the conversation topic wasn't about what they knew, and they turned to the troubled man.

"Why do you think she's lying to you?" Woody wondered, as the girl had seemed pretty genuine when she had visited them not so long ago.

"It's not that I think she's lying to me, it's just that there were gaps in what she told us," Charlie re-worded himself.

They took the time to consider that for a moment, going through everything that the girl had said to them when she had stopped by. Sure, she had been upset and that element in itself had made her words seem more truthful.

Whilst the band were trying to decide who their friends really were, the body of a young blond man remained near the muddy woods. He'd been lying there for the best part of thirty six hours, undiscovered by emergency services. Of course, he wasn't the only one who had slipped under the radar. His hair was plastered to his forehead, and his clothes seemed to be keen in sticking to him like glue.

A wave of water making contact with his shoes shocked the young man awake. For a few seconds, he was breathless as he viewed his surroundings, his heart racing incredibly fast in his confusion. When he tried to remember how he had gotten so close to the woods, and why he was dressed in some kind of weird uniform, at first, he couldn't remember. Then, he heard the gunshots, the water flashing before his eyes, separating him from his father and some others.

He remembered it all.

It took him a while, but he managed to get to his feet, using a nearby tree as his support. Looking out into the distance, it seemed as if the whole town had been drenched in water. It was obvious that River Rachel had flooded everything. The realisation had only just come to him that without his father, he was nothing. Without his father, he had no protection. That unnerved the young blond man, who clenched his fists. What he needed to do was leave the town as quickly as possible.

A noise of someone stepping on something could be heard in the distance. Slowly, his hands shaking and his legs trembling, the blond turned around and couldn't believe his eyes what he had seen. Over time, given the fact of his mental state three years ago, he would have had good reason to believe what Rachel had hinted to him about the dark shadow she thought had been stalking her. However, three years ago, he had chosen not to believe her out of common sense, because ghosts were not real.

Or so he thought - but the one standing in front of him was very real, and it looked ready to pounce at any moment. Cautiously, the young blond gulped. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see the river flowing behind him, and he suddenly got flashbacks. _Not there. Not there._ He didn't want it to happen there. At that moment, he realised he was stupid to think that the dark figure would never think about harming him.

Right there, he felt as if he was facing his demons all at once. Sure, he could see the face of the person in front of him, but how did that benefit him? Was the person in front of him really the dark figure he had seen that night?

Luckily, the figure must have gotten frightened and ran away. The young blond heard their footsteps, assuming that he was safe. He turned around to look at the river in front of him, finding himself yearning for a lost friend.

As he took a deep breath, he feared it would be his last as he gasped suddenly. Pain surged throughout his body, and he blinked rapidly as he saw the deep, red crimson colour flowing onto his fingers and dampening his shoulders and face. Within seconds, he lost his balance and fell to the ground.

It was ten past one when emergency services found the body of a young man passed out with a head injury. He was rushed into hospital immediately. A girl in the hospital heard about it, and after he was treated, she made sure to wait outside of his room accordingly, nervously drumming her fingers. _He needed to survive. Of course he was going to survive,_ she thought - because he had Rachel's touch. Quietly, she put her hands together, her long, dark hair away from her face as she performed a little prayer.

Less than three quarters of an hour later, the girl was allowed inside of the room. A nurse was curiously watching on the outside, smiling at the two, assuming that they must have been close. Patiently, the girl sat by his beside, waiting for him to speak. From what she was told, the young blond was fine and had been lucky to survive the trauma his body had been through, especially from almost drowning, too. A good five minutes had passed, and no words had been said between the two.

"I can't do this anymore. Zara. I can't do this. I can't carry on as if everything is fine," he admitted, his hands shaking wildly at the fate he had almost come to as a result of what they were both doing.

Sympathetically, Zara put a hand on top of his. She knew how he was feeling, and it was exactly how she had been feeling too for some time. Unfortunately, the odds were stacked against them and there was no way they were going to get out of what they had already started. There had been a time when both of them hadn't gotten their hands dirty, but now that was no longer the case. Now, they were adults.

And adults took responsibility.

"Listen. Palmer, I know this is hard. I know you had a near death experience, I did too three years ago for getting too close, but I need us to be on the same wavelength," Zara persisted, and she was right, for the interests of their safety.

Palmer took a deep breath, listening to her speak to him to try to calm him down. In a way, it could be argued that she was manipulating him, but really, it was for the greater good. He could see that, as they had known each other for some time. Really, they hadn't really planned anything. In The Draw, they happened to get caught in each other's crossfire, but they knew they would find a way back to each other again. A way back to the friendship they once had.

Meanwhile, an unsuspecting Charlie was chilling out along with his friends in one of the hospital's many corridors, helping themselves to free food that was being given out. Little did they know that what was about to hit them would shock them.

A young blond man came into their sights. Will was the first to spot him, who gasped at his tired appearance, but mostly at the fact that he was still alive, despite the stunt they had tried to pull back in The Draw. Kyle was about to fully swing for him into Mark helpfully held him back, telling him that it wasn't worth it. He stared at the men, not knowing what to say. It wasn't how he had pictured the moment in his head, and he knew he didn't have enough time, but he had to use the time he had left wisely.

"I have something you need to know," Palmer announced suddenly to the group, and it sounded the opposite of what he had wanted it to sound like.

In seconds, the men were whispering to each other about what the blond could be planning for them, and they weren't very interested. Palmer began to worry with the way that they were looking at him. His eyes wandered to the hospital clock in front of him. _Half an hour,_ at most.

"How can we trust you?" Woody asked the young man seriously, and he didn't even have the answer to that question.

He'd been asking himself for the last couple of years, and he had come up with a few things that could answer his own question, but the quality had never been good enough.

"Because it's three years overdue," Palmer put simply.

That was convincing enough for the men, who got up and conferred with each other shortly after. Mark let them know that he was there for support, though he saw it best that he stay out of what they were getting involved in. Charlie told him that was fine, as he wasn't with them that night anyway.

Their hearts in their mouths, they followed the weak blond down the many corridors he presented to them. Some of them were longer than others. Some of them had people suffering in them, some of them not. Some smelt like bleach, triggering Dan's weak gag reflex at time, to which was calmed down by Kyle offering to share his bottle of water. Woody felt his footsteps become quieter as the blond came to a stop in front of a room. Before he could open it, someone's voice could be heard in the distance.

"Be smart about this," Zara warned him, as a last attempt to stop him from what he was about to do.

At the sound of her voice, the men turned around to face her, concerned about where she had popped up from and most of all, how the two knew each other. Despite that, the blond was adamant in what he wanted to do, and he opened the door in front of them. It revealed an empty room with no beds or equipment in it. Reluctantly, the girl with the bright blue eyes felt the need to follow the men inside.

Palmer started to explain his story of what had happened that night. Although the men were sceptical, it was true, as well as Zara's story of what had happened that night. The blond didn't mind if the men didn't believe him, but that was what they wanted to know. Palmer's eyes glanced to the clock in the room. Twenty minutes.

Dan dared to ask about the blond's stiches. 

"Someone tried to kill me. Anyway-"

The singer frowned, not understanding the young man's logic. While he had told them about his mental health three years ago, it still didn't add up.

"How can you say that so casually?"

"Because my days are numbered."

Charlie also frowned.

"Could...you do me a favour?" Palmer asked, and nobody really knew exactly who he was talking to, so they assumed that he was asking the whole room.

Of course, Charlie was about to ask him what the favour was, but he was silenced by the blond, who staggered slightly as if there was something wrong with him.

"I need you to hide my body," Palmer requested.

The room went silent as what he had request was total and complete madness. Zara walked over to him and tried to get the man back to realitly, but he was not willing to listen. Closely, Zara observed him and wondered why he was talking the way he was. Palmer had been cleared of mental instability after spending some time at a mental hospital.

"You know who the killer is," Kyle assumed, his voice low and quiet, barely audiable by everyone person in the room.

The blond didn't answer the question, though the answer was pretty clear. Given the fact that someone had tried to kill him earlier that day, everyone had a good idea of who it was. The killer.

"You know...I'm surprised...you didn't recognise...me," the young man said slowly, his back pressed against the wall as he slid down onto the floor.

To help, Dan nudged Charlie, prompting him to say something. For a moment, the confused man shrugged and tried to think. Strangely enough, his mind took him back to the night three years ago, even though he hadn't known the boy then.

"A week before Rachel died, my father called me crazy and told me he would admit me into a mental hospital. Obviously, with her out of the picture, there was nobody to cover things up for me anymore. So after she died, I stayed in that hospital for three months, and I sure as hell saw you."

Charlie was very silent. Those days in that hospital had been the worst days of his life, and he really didn't want to have to go back there.

"Palmer. I need you to tell me who did this."

"It's too...late. I didn't want to...to live with the secret..."

In seconds, the blond's eyes closed, and Woody immediately rushed to his side to try to bring him back to earth. However, his body wasn't responding to anything the band tried to do. When a scared Zara tried to call for a nurse, he was risked away. The group followed his body, wanting to be updated on what had just happened.

A horrible ten minutes passed where nothing any doctor did could save the young man, and Charlie felt his fists clench when he took his final breath.  _What if that had been their last chance? Palmer was so innocent. He believed every word that came out of his mouth._

There, Charlie was taken back to the moment where a troublesome sixteen year old had escaped from his bed one night and practically begged him for a cigarette. It was the look on his face back then which had made the older man take pity on him. The look of despair and pure neediness, neglect. No more.

No more.

The men quizzed Zara, though she wasn't giving them any new information. Woody demanded to know the location of the members of the inner circle and whether they were still alive. Unfortunately, they did seem to be alive because Zara knew where they were. There was a speech being held outside of the hospital, apparently, where Hill was addressing the tragedy that had washed over the town.

Quietly, the band managed to fit in with the rest of the crowd, blending into the faces of the injured, the sick and the needy. Dan was angry by that point, his ice cold blue eyes staring into Jon Hill's, wanting to find out the truth. By the time Hill was done with his speech, there wasn't really a plan coordinated by the men, but they had a good idea of what they _wanted_ to do. They'd gotten permission to perform on stage.

To spite Hill, the band took to the stage. That was the moment that with the help of Will, the band had devised a plan.

"This one's for River Rachel, and if things haven't changed, we're lying to ourselves," Charlie announced as he took a step towards the front of the stage.

They got a lot of cheers, as the majority of the town were on their side now. Hill and the middle-aged man they'd never caught the name of whilst in The Draw, stood next to one another, eyeing the band with pure hate. Hill had a stitch across his face, but that seemed to be all the damage he'd suffered, which was a shame.

Naturally, Charlie wasn't needed for a whole lot of songs, and the band were performing a song they would have preferred him to stay for, but he secretly slipped backstage and slipped through the crowd, managing to stop for a split second so that he would catch one man's attention. As planned smoothly, it did catch his attention, and that man was closely on Charlie's tail, smirking as he watched his every move.

In the distance, the sweet sounds of a blue-eyed angel could be heard.

_Oh I,_

_I just died in your arms tonight_

After all, he had his eye on him for the last three years. Every step that the man in front of him took, he felt, and he copied him, feeling his every breath. Charlie was creeped out by it and picked up the pace, but remained his cool. _It was OK,_ he told himself. Slowly, he lead the man to the riverbank, where he came to a halt.

"I had a feeling you would follow me here," Charlie figured.

Silence, nothing but heavy breathing could be heard. Clearly, the man behind him didn't want to talk to him.

"Follow you? You lead me here," the man twisted his words.

Without saying anything, Charlie knew he would regret it, but he slowly turned around to identify the person standing behind them. He hadn't really recognised his voice, but he hoped, he prayed it wasn't anyone he had seen before. Unfortunately, that hadn't been the case. Standing in front of him was the middle-aged man that had stuck to Hill's side. _Did that make him the killer?_

Before anything more could be said, the presumed killer reached out to touch Charlie's shoulders, pushing them lightly. The whole ordeal had been a lot quicker than the man had anticipated, and his eyes widened as he caught sight of the world flashing before his eyes. _His friends weren't due by the riverbank for another five minutes, at most._ Luckily, the waters in the River gave him strength, and he was able to surface.

The middle-aged man was squatting just above the riverbank with a satisfied smirk on his face. _No wonder why Hill had asked him to get rid of bodies in the Draw._ He had all the necessary qualities of a killer. Again, he reached out, forcing Charlie's head underwater. He hadn't been expecting that, and struggled to breathe under the pressure.

In those moments, he wondered if he would have been lying to himself if he wished that he had died that night too.


	21. A New Glory

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hiya, it's cleardays and I would like to apologise because I know some people who have been commenting and following on with this fic. feel free to rant at me in the comments lol , I'm sad that this is finished and I'm sorry I haven't updated in a month. It was pure lethargy (haha reference) and laziness and...
> 
> I lost myself in another fandom which I swore I wouldn't do.  
> It's called Somewhere Up Above (I'm sure if you click on my name you can see it) i'm sorry I shifted my focus to that
> 
> BUT  
> I will make another Bastille fic at some point and I will keep my promises of one update a week. I swear.  
> I love Bastille, don't worry
> 
> Sorry that this is short, it's kinda like a closure chapter. I promise I didn't rush it. I've loved writing this fic. Thanks to everyone who gave kudos and stuff on it. thanks guys, I have loved this little world

There was a loud bang that echoed through the whole forest, followed by a loud thump. Gasps and struggling sounds followed. Four men were already on their way to the scene, and were surprised to see not two men, but three at the riverbank. Kyle's eyes cast to the body of Charlie, and his eyes widened as his hands started shaking. The last time he had seen someone like that was Sam when Will had knocked him out. The sight, for Will, was familiar also, as he actually had come across a body before.

What the men who had just arrived at the scene had noticed last was the middle-aged man knocked out on the ground, an obvious but not visible head injury as his blood wet the forest floor. Kyle's hands started shaking, and Woody squeezed his arm to show some support before his anxiety reached sky high. The other man, however, was all too familiar. A crowbar lay at his feet.

Terrance made eye contact with Will. For a moment, it seemed as if he was alright, then Dan saw the blood making its way down his forehead, and he collapsed. The situation was very surreal. 

"Barnes...see to...Barnes," Terrance managed.

Regardless, Dan and Kyle dropped to their knees to observe what looked like a very lifeless Terrance, their eyes occasionally flicking to the body of the unnamed man. Meanwhile, Will wasted no time in dropping to his knees and checking Charlie's pulse. He wanted to ask what had happened, but he didn't have much time to act. Without hesitation, he put his lips to Charlie's, giving him CPR. The process went on for two minutes, and it was the longest two minutes of all of their lives. 

To the side, Woody smiled at the lifeless body of Charlie Barnes as he placed his hands on top of his left, cold hand. He took a deep breath at the very real possibility that he would not take another breath again. Will, who was tearing up by that point, feared that there was nothing more they could do. The journey back to the hospital was fifteen minutes, and there was no way he would last that long.

Out of curiosity, Dan checked the pulse of the unnamed man. Kyle looked at him, wanting some kind of verdict. Dan's heart skipped a beat and his face turned white as he turned back to Kyle. Clearly, the bearded man must have known what that had meant, because he nodded, his face also turning pale.

Suddenly, the sound of someone coughing could be heard. It was Charlie, his senses coming back as he coughed up a load of water. His clothes were completely drenched, as well as the uncomfortable moist feeling of water in his shoes. Elated, Will threw his arms around the younger man, as did Woody though the other two would have to wait their turn. Though Will warned Charlie to take it easy, with the strength that he had left, he rushed to Terrance's side.

There was a flicker of life in his eyes, but not much.

"Why would you do that for me?" Charlie asked the man seriously, as he barely knew him and what he had just done had not made much sense.

"Because I followed her...that night on behalf of Palmer, but he...found me and struck me down. I had to...redeem myself. Rachel had found out some things about the council that involved him. He went after her," Terrance explained.

His actions made more sense, though his life was out of their hands as his head injury was so bad that he had lost a lot of blood, more blood than Kyle and Dan had managed to prevent him from losing. In seconds, his breath slowed, and all traces of life in him came to a final stop. Kyle had to look away as Woody looked at him thoughtfully, reaching out to close his eyes.

When Dan asked them what the group should do, Charlie got to his feet and he had the perfect answer for a fresh start.

"We take it back to where it all began."

Nothing was said as he made his way over to the unnamed man, turning his body over so that they could all see his face clearly. For a long time, Charlie had been thinking of all the things that he would have done if he had found his girlfriend's murderer, but none of those things came to mind. He was a better man than that, and he knew that, too.

They were all better now.

 

* * *

 

EPILOUGE

* * *

 

Three years passed since Rachel Richards' murderer, identified as Harold Darling, had finally brought peace to the town. The council was replaced and taken over, thankfully, and a lot of government funding was put into restoring the town. Luckily, it had only needed a few repairs and not everything had gotten swept away and destroyed.

Hill died in a town riot, spun out of control and developing into total anarchy. A memorial was put in place for Palmer, and a new one for Rachel.

The events did put the band members in therapy, and some withdrew from it sooner than others, but they talked about their mistakes, their locking horns and they moved on from it, like water travelling down a steady stream.

Woody and Will no longer lived alone in their flats, but instead lived with their girlfriends. Charlie hadn't really tried looking, as he needed more time to heal, but he figured that he was getting there. He originally thought that having Zara in his life with remind him of that dreaded night, but it helped them. It helped them to talk about things and celebrate Rachel's life. His love for her as a boyfriend, and Zara's love for her as a friend. They also talked about Palmer. They made arrangements to see each other monthly, as Zara had moved on from the town to stay with her family.

Dan and Kyle however, finally had a flat together. The first year of their relationship had its fair share of up and downs, but more than anything, they were happy to be together. As Kyle emerged from the bedroom in his dressing gown, he passed Dan his much needed cup of coffee. The blue-eyed man was sitting at the kitchen counter, his dark hair reaching out in all directions. Dan thanked him. Kyle sat down next to him with a massive smile on his face, just staring at him. Of course, he did that a lot, and Dan rolled his eyes.

Though, he couldn't blame his lover for doing so, Dan found his eyes wandering to the ring on his finger too. _Who would have thought that Kyle would have been the one to propose first?_ Obviously, Dan was still salty at the fact that they had both bought a ring on the same day, at two different stores and had planned to drop down on one knee on the same day at the exact same time. Well, _great minds did think alike._

Dan felt his neck burn once he caught Kyle eyeing it, admiring his own work. Bitterly, Dan scowled at the younger man before giving him a salty look. Kyle could get aggressive with the hickeys, not that he minded, but that look meant that plenty more were going to come.

Since it was impossible, Dan gave in and kissed Kyle's lips gently. Kyle had planned it and knew that it was going to happen, so he kissed him back violently, drawing him into a steamy kiss. Dan smiled into the making out session and pulled his lips away from his just to taunt him. He raised his eyebrows before diving back into his cup of coffee again.

"Oh, you tease," Kyle accused him.

"Only for you," Dan argued, with a smirk.

Outside, it was noticeable by the engaged couple, as well as the other band members that the sun was blinding outside, revealing the first rainbow they'd seen in years in the dull town. Kyle looked back at Dan and he was sure that it meant that a new beginning for them all was just around the corner. 

After all, there was glory in their pasts, and an even newer glory waiting for them.


End file.
